The Lizzie Bennet Diaries--From Darcy's Point of View
by MauiSunsetz
Summary: LBD-verse. Exploring the Lizzie Bennet Diaries episodes from Darcy's point of view starting with Episode 60 (his disastrous declaration of love). What might have been going on in Darcy's mind on those days and during the episodes. Thanks for reading and for reviewing!
1. Episode 60--Disastrous declaration

**The Lizzie Bennet Diaries Episode 60 from Darcy's Point of View**

The violent civil war between my rational mind and my heart had raged inside me for months. I was staunchly determined that the rational side would win. After all, I prided myself on my control and rationality above all else. On paper, nothing about Lizzie Bennet suggested that she would be in any way a good match for me. Unfortunately, my heart had the opposite opinion. When I agreed to examine the workings of Collins & Collins for my aunt, I tried to ignore that my decision had been significantly influenced by the opportunity to see Lizzie again.

I quickly became accustomed to the pleasure of a few minutes of daily interaction with Lizzie. Much to the horror of my rational mind, I felt myself light up every time I saw her. When she smiled and laughed with Charlotte, I longed to join their conversation. Unfortunately, every time I tried, my presence had the effect of bringing their conversation to an abrupt halt. I had to content myself with observation alone. The mere sound of her voice or the trill of her laugh drifting down the hallway rendered me unable to concentrate on my work. Thoughts about her invaded my mind with troubling frequency. Seeing Lizzie had become the highlight of my day. She had even affected my sleeping habits. I no longer hit snooze on my alarm to allow my customary seven minutes to properly sweep aside the veil of unconsciousness. I found myself jumping out of bed wide-awake and eager to start my day. It was vexing indeed. I regularly argued with myself in the bathroom mirror, trying to remind my heart of all the reasons it was impossible for me to even consider her as an acceptable partner. Sometimes I thought I heard my heart laughing in response. I had begun to question my sanity.

I hadn't even caught a glimpse of Lizzie during the past three days. The need to see her built up exponentially every day that I was deprived of her. I was on edge, desperate to see her again, if only for a few precious minutes. All day I'd consoled myself with the knowledge that the whole company would be attending the Halloween party. When Charlotte informed me that Lizzie wasn't coming, something snapped inside me. The irrational desires of my heart and my need to see her overwhelmed my rational mind. I felt like a volcano ready to explode. I had to see Lizzie right now. Fueled by something close to madness, I marched back to the office building. I knocked on her open door.

I said, "Excuse me Lizzie."

She turned toward me in surprise. "Darcy."

"I need to speak with you." I closed the door behind me.

"This really isn't a good time."

"Are you all right?"

"I'm not actually."

We both started talking at the same time. She was trying to stop me but there was no stopping me now, this runaway train was barreling full speed ahead.

I said, "Please let me explain."

She flailed her arms. "This is the worst possible time you could be doing this!"

Her distress didn't register with me. "I'm sorry, but the last few months have been crazy. I 've been hiding something from you that I shouldn't have and I can't anymore. I need to admit something to you. Please sit."

She sat down and said, "Well, this should be good."

I followed her gaze and realized she was speaking into a camera. The red light was on. "You're filming."

"If you've got something to say to me, you say it here and now."

A camera wasn't going to stop me. Nothing could deter me now, not even my rational mind, which was screaming at me to stop. I blurted out, "I didn't come to Collins & Collins to monitor corporate progress, I came here to see you."

"Okay."

My arguments against her spilled out in a torrent. "Two parts of me have been at war. Your odd family, your financial trouble, you're in a different world than me. People expect me to travel in certain circles and I do respect the wishes of my family, but not today." I paused for a split second before admitting the truth I'd long avoided. "I've been fighting against this for months now, but Lizzie Bennet, I'm in love with you."

Her mouth dropped open in surprise as she turned toward the camera with her eyes wide.

I was slightly giddy with relief, now that I'd admitted the truth to myself as well as to her. "I can't believe it either, that my heart could completely overwhelm my judgment."

She retorted, "I hope that your judgment can be some solace in your rejection, because those feelings are not mutual."

It took a few moments for me to process the impossible meaning of her words. "Are you rejecting me?"

"Does that surprise you?"

I'd been guarding myself against gold diggers for so long that I couldn't even comprehend anyone actually rejecting me. I said defensively, "May I ask why?"

"May I ask why you're even here, in spite of your social class, the wishes of your family and your own better judgment?"

I realized the harshness of my words as they were thrown back in my face, but the truth of them remained. "That was badly put. But that's the world we live in in. Social classes are a real thing. People who think otherwise live in a fantasy."

"And that's just the beginning of a long list of reasons why I'm rejecting you."

How could she possibly have a long list? "Such as?"

"Such as the nicest thing you've ever said about me was that I was 'decent enough'. You act like you'd rather have a hernia repaired than be around me. You have a checklist for what makes an accomplished woman. Don't even get me started on what you did to Jane!"

I wasn't going to apologize for not being prone to flattery, but I might have to admit my part in saving Bing from her sister. "What about Jane?"

"You took the heart of my sister, the kindest soul on the planet and tore it in half."

I was surprised to hear that she thought her sister had been injured. I hadn't thought she truly cared about Bing. "I didn't mean…"

"And why? Why did you do it, Darcy? Does causing pain to those of us in lower social standing give you joy?"

I was proud of protecting Bing, not of causing anyone pain. "No, I simply doubted her long term faith in the relationship. I watched her dealings with other men. At your local bar that night Bing was away, she was being very social."

She retorted, "That's because she's nice."

"And what about his own birthday, her indiscretion?"

"Indiscretion?"

"While he was entertaining his guests, she was engaging with another man,

I saw it with my own eyes." I'd seen her laughing and smiling with another man in what appeared to be the same way she'd laughed and smiled with Bing.

"That's a lie."

"It was then clear to me that her feeling for him were fleeting and she never truly cared for him as he did for her."

She shouted, "Are you kidding me?"

"From that point on, I never believed that her feeling for him were nothing more than simply her kindness. I was protecting him."

"Protecting him or protecting his wealth? Did you really think Jane was dating him for the money?"

"Well it was made pretty clear to me that she would be an advantageous relationship for her."

"By Jane?"

"No, but by her family, your family."

"My family?" Her voice cut off as she spoke.

I pressed on emphatically, venting my objections to her family. "Your energetic younger sister and especially your mother. Every discussion, every moment I observed her, she would blabber about Jane and Bing. It defined and consumed her life." I clarified, trying to explain the difference in how I viewed her. "I'm sorry… I never thought of you that way."

She ignored my olive branch and stabbed me with a poisonous subject. "And what about George Wickham?"

The mention of Wickham's name fired me up again. "What about him?"

"What imaginary act of friendship caused you to do what you did to him?"

"You seem unnervingly interested in his concerns."

"He told me of his struggle."

"Oh yeah, his life has been quite a struggle." That bastard hadn't done a day of real work in his life.

"You destroyed his life and then make jokes about it."

Wickham had evidently been spinning a web of lies. "So this is what you think of me. Thank you for explaining it all to me so eloquently."

"And thank you for proving time and time again that your arrogance, pride and selfishness make you the last man in the world I could ever fall in love with."

Her words stung me to the core. I had no defense for that. "I'm sorry to have caused you so much pain, I should have acted differently. I was unaware of your feelings towards me."

"You were unaware?" She turned back to the camera. "Then why don't you watch my videos?"

I looked at the camera. "What videos?"

I went straight back to my hotel, barely able to see straight as a mix of emotions swirled inside me. I needed to defend myself against her allegations about my character. I had to set the record straight. She must understand that I wasn't the man she had described and rejected so vehemently. I wasn't even truly the man who had burst into her office and demanded that she listen to me. I had lost control of myself today for the first time in many years.

I felt like I was suffocating. I loosened my tie and unbuttoned my collar. I sat down and wrote a Lizzie a letter. I was much better at expressing myself in written form. First, I defended myself regarding my protection of my friend, Bing, who fell in love too easily for his own good. I had been certain that Jane didn't feel as strongly about him as he did for her. It wasn't the first time I'd protected the too-trusting Bing and I was proud of being a good friend to him. My pride was justified in this case. When I finished that section, the curiosity that had been incessantly nagging at me got the best of me.

It wasn't difficult to find Lizzie's videos on YouTube. When she started talking about me, I poured myself a glass of my father's favorite scotch. It gave me liquid courage and made me feel connected to my father, who had been a truly good man. Jane's obvious pain when she talked about Bing leaving punched me in the gut. Maybe I had been wrong about Jane's feelings after all. Maybe, like me, she didn't show her feelings to the world. I felt even worse as I realized that Jane had tried to portray me in a positive way during her costume theater performances as me. Lizzie's latest video from three days ago showed Fitz proudly telling Lizzie how I'd saved Bing from a gold digger that she knew to be her sister. I swallowed hard. I better understood why she'd been so angry today and perhaps why I hadn't seen her for the last three days. There was probably no way I could have approached her today with a favorable result, even if I hadn't lost control.

I cringed as I thought about the way my behavior would appear if she posted today's video. I wasn't even sure what I had said anymore. I hadn't been able to stop myself. I hadn't been sensitive to what Lizzie had said at all, I'd only vented my own feelings of being in love, complete with my arguments against her. I had been overwhelmed with emotions that I was ill equipped to convey, then my temper had taken over as I tried to defend myself after she rejected me. I'd essentially reinforced every negative opinion she already had about me.

I pulled out the faded photo of my parents that I kept inside my wallet. I wished I could talk to my father tonight about how I felt about Lizzie and how badly I'd messed everything up. I felt like he would understand. I frowned as I realized how ashamed my parents would have been if they had actually witnessed my behavior today. My father had entertained movie executives with an easy grace. He could talk to anyone about anything and instantly gain their good opinion. I wished I could have inherited that trait, but I hadn't. It was painfully difficult for me to talk to people unless it was business-related. I was completely at a loss when it came to small talk. I knew that it was a social requirement, but I didn't understand the point of talking to people about trifling subjects such as the weather or how their day had been. I couldn't do anything to change either one of those things so what was the purpose of discussing it?

Watching Lizzie's videos had a profound effect on me. I was able to objectively analyze my own behavior toward her. Lizzie had perceived my worst qualities during our interactions because she'd primarily seen the result of my internal struggle to reject her. She was right, I hadn't said anything nice about her. I hadn't let myself even think many nice things about her beyond recognizing her intelligence and wit. My heart was to blame for perceiving her other good qualities and warming to her with no additional encouragement from my mind.

Lizzie had certainly picked up on my social awkwardness, which had been brought to new heights during my attempts to interact with her. My best friend, Fitz, had even said I had the social skills of an agoraphobic lobster. It stung, but I knew he was right. Lizzie had called me many things, including a malfunctioning robot. Reflecting on my own behavior when I became overwhelmed and often wordless around her, I could understand why. But I wasn't a heartless robot, I experienced strong feelings. I just did my best to mask them in order to avoid showing weakness. My habit of hiding my feelings was cemented during the long fight to take control of my father's company after his death, when most of the Board of Directors at the time had opposed me for being too young.

Lizzie's videos also gave me further insight into her personality, her sense of humor, and her love for her family and friends. I was helpless to stop my heart from falling even deeper in love with her. Her videos enabled me to enjoy an intimacy with her that I hadn't been able to achieve on my own. I was grateful for that at least. As the last of my anger and indignation faded, a deep sadness and regret washed over me. The consequence of finally admitting to myself that I was in love with Lizzie was that the crushing pain of her rejection was sinking in.

I poured myself another glass of scotch and finished writing my letter. I revealed the truth about George Wickham and his involvement with my family, the way he had endeared himself to my father to gain an inheritance, the way I had honored my father's wishes despite already finding out the truth about George's true character, and the way he'd gotten more money out of me by preying on my innocent little sister. I slammed my fist on the desk as I recalled the way Gigi's face had fallen when George took the check and dropped her without a second thought. My heart broke for my sister as I tried to help Gigi struggle with her grief and rebuild her shattered self confidence. I cursed myself for failing to keep Gigi safe from that soul-sucking monster. I hadn't forgiven myself for the pain she'd endured. I would give anything to keep her from ever feeling like that ever again. I'd felt nauseous when I watched Wickham flirt with Lizzie on her videos and lie about me. I couldn't stop myself from being jealous of the way she smiled and looked at him—a way she'd never looked at me and likely never would. I was immensely relieved that she hadn't gotten too entangled with him. I'd like to think that she was too skeptical to fall for his hollow gestures, but George had fooled plenty of people before, including my father and even myself as a boy.

I finished the letter and sealed it with my family's crest. Tomorrow, I would be on my best behavior when I delivered the letter to Lizzie. Even if she never changed her mind about me being the last man in the world that she could ever fall in love with, my rational mind just wanted to show her that I was capable of being polite. My heart had larger aspirations and was determined to somehow prove that she had misjudged me.


	2. Episode 61--Darcy delivers his letter

**LBD Episode 61—From Darcy's Point of View**

I tossed and turned all night, Lizzie's scathing words repeating over and over in my mind, "Your arrogance, pride and selfishness make you the last man in the world I could ever fall in love with."

Sleep had escaped me and I abandoned the endeavor completely when the inky night began to give way to the approach of the rising sun. I went for a run to try to clear my head. The hostile look on Lizzie's face during most of our conversation had failed to register yesterday, but in the cold morning light, I couldn't avoid the angry picture of her in my mind. Sometimes I had trouble recognizing social cues, which made me even less willing to engage in conversation with people I didn't know well. Even so, yesterday I had been nearly out of my mind and probably wouldn't have noticed if the building had been on fire.

I started to dissect her phrase beginning with arrogance. I had been informed that I came off as stuck-up before. I attributed it to my tendency not to speak much unless I found a topic truly interesting. I had nothing to offer on the subject of reality television or mindless pop music since I generally avoided them. Why would I waste my time with such drivel when I could be listening to world events, book reviews, or other thought provoking cultural topics on NPR?

Her next complaint had been my pride. I wasn't going to apologize for being proud of my achievements. I had worked very hard and she had no idea about the obstacles I'd faced. I wasn't sure what else she could mean.

The final accusation had been selfishness. I didn't quite understand what she meant by this. I went out of my way regularly to help my family and my friends. That was the opposite of my comprehension of the word.

Some of the things she's said about me on her videos had hurt. Did I really seem soulless and joyless? She had also professed to hate me. Hate was such a strong word that I had made it a practice to avoid using it. There were very few things or people in this world that I felt so irreparably negative about that it could be classified as hatred. George Wickham was one of those people. I fervently hoped that Lizzie didn't feel as strongly about me as I felt about Wickham. I had come to understand that many people enjoy engaging in the practice of exaggeration, and I hoped this was one of those cases. I personally detested exaggeration. What could be gained by portraying something as much more or much less than it actually was? Perhaps this was related to my organized and exact nature, but it confused me. In any case, perhaps Lizzie might lessen her hatred of me when she read my explanation of the truth about George Wickham.

By the end of my run, I had come to the conclusion that I might need some help. I needed to correct the way I was perceived so that it better matched my true character. A good leader, a good CEO, knew when it was time for an outside opinion. I would have to consider myself as a project that was best served by bringing in a consultant.

I got ready and went into the Collins & Collins offices in search of Lizzie with my letter in hand. When I reached the floor where her office was, I heard her somewhat distressed voice from down the hall. She was talking with Charlotte. As I got closer, I could understand what she was saying. She was talking about me. I reminded myself of my goal, to deliver my letter. I would not get defensive or upset, no matter what she said. I would represent the very ideal of civilized, polite behavior today, even if it killed me.

Lizzie said, "He could sue me for some of the stuff I've said about him. Not that it's untrue. He's a really successful businessman."

I walked into the open office and almost knocked as she said, "Really successful businessmen sue people. A lot, so I'm told. Oh god, do we know any lawyers?"

I interrupted her, "I'm not going to sue you."

Lizzie and Charlotte both turned around in surprise.

Charlotte turned back to Lizzie and said, "I'm going to go…do something work related." As she exited, she stopped and addressed me. "Regardless of your position of authority, I don't like what you did to Jane."

I didn't respond. This was neither the time nor the place.

When Charlotte was gone, I asked Lizzie in as polite a tone as I could muster, "May I sit down?" I tried not to notice how pretty she looked today and how much of her milky white skin was on display.

She said, "Sure."

I found myself looking into the lens of the live camera again. "You're filming again." I shifted uncomfortably as I realized that this encounter would likely end up on the internet as well.

"Yes."

"You're quite prolific."

She seemed a little nervous. "You watched my videos."

How could I best describe their effect on me without starting an argument, getting defensive, or telling her how much more I loved her now after watching them? I must remain objective. "It was illuminating. You called me a robot." No, I didn't want her to feel like I was attacking her for the robot analogy. I added something that had actually made me laugh. "and a newsie."

She was a little apologetic. "Yeah, that probably wasn't the best descriptor. I only saw you in the hat once. I just ran with it…"

I used my most reassuring voice and a small smile, "It's fine. I don't care about that." Time to get down to business. I held out the letter. "Will you do me the favor of reading this?"

She eyed the letter suspiciously. "What is it?"

To convince her to take it, I was going to have to admit one of my faults. I just hoped she didn't ridicule me for it. I confessed, "I sometimes have difficulty explaining myself. Just read it…please?"

Her voice was soft as she took the letter. "Oh, okay."

I turned to get up, but stopped. This might be my last chance to ever speak to her. I needed to show her that I could be something other than arrogant, proud, or selfish. From watching her videos, I had seen how uncomfortable my presence at Collins & Collins had made her. I truly hadn't meant to make her feel that way, so I apologized. "I'm sorry…if I made your visit here awkward or unpleasant in any way."

She just looked at me incredulously, but at least her face wasn't angry like yesterday. This was the snapshot I would save in my mind as the last time I saw her. I would make no more efforts to cross her path or cause her any more discomfort.

I got up and walked toward the door. For a moment, I considered saying something more, something about how sorry I was about how I'd behaved yesterday. I hesitated for a moment, but lost my nerve and continued out the door.

I was done here in every possible way. I'd turned in my report to my aunt already, so I headed home. I needed to get started on my new project, myself, as soon as possible. I called the person who knew my faults best, my sister, Gigi.

She answered brightly, "Hello, William."

"Gigi, I think I might need your help."

"I'm sorry, who is this?" She erupted in giggles.

"Very funny. I'm on my way home and we can talk more then."


	3. After Episode 61--Gigi helps Darcy

**After Episode 61—After Darcy delivers his letter to Lizzie, he goes home and asks his sister for help, accidently mentioning the videos.**

I stopped by Gigi's condo that evening.

She was wearing her fuzzy squirrel slippers. "So, William, what do you need my help with?"

I cleared my throat. "Well, it's just that…um…something has been brought to my attention and I'm not sure what to make of it."

Her eyebrows arched. "What's going on?"

I looked down, embarrassed to be talking about this with my little sister.

She gasped. "It's a girl, isn't it?"

I frowned, but my cheeks were burning.

She bounced around, clapping with glee. "Oh, yes! Finally, my grumpy old man of a brother is in love!" She grinned. "Who is she?"

I shook my head. "It doesn't matter."

She crossed her arms. "Then I won't help you."

"Gigi…"

"Tell me who she is and I'll help you sweep her off her feet."

"No, it's too late for that. That's not what I want help with anyway."

She narrowed her eyes. "Then what?"

"You know me better than most people."

"True."

"Do I give the impression of being arrogant, proud, and selfish?"

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "She said that?" Gigi covered her mouth as she blurted out laughing louder than I'd heard her laugh in a long time.

I sighed, regretting my decision to involve her.

Gigi grabbed my shoulder as she tried to control her laughter. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, William. I don't mean to laugh, it's just…wow. You really do need my help, brother dear. But the deal is the same. Tell me who she is and I'll help you."

I sighed heavily. "You won't let this go, will you?"

"Nope. Tell me everything."

"Fine. Her name is Lizzie Bennet. I met her this summer when I was staying with Bing. I encountered her again during the past couple of weeks. Two days ago, I made a complete fool of myself on film, no less." As soon as the words left my lips, I regretted them probably as much as Lizzie had when she told me.

"On film? What do you mean?"

"Er, nothing."

She grabbed my arm and pulled. "No…come on, you have to tell me!"

"She has a video blog."

Gigi started laughing again. "No way! This is too good to be true!" She sprang over to her laptop. With surprising speed, she found Lizzie's vlog. "She's pretty, William."

I shifted my weight uncomfortably. "Um, yes."

"There are quite of few videos. How many are you in?"

"Well, I only became aware of them two days ago. I watched them all and although I'm parodied in quite a few where she and her friends dress up as me, I don't know if she's posted the two recordings I was actually in."

Gigi's mouth fell open. "They dressed up as you?" She cackled. "This is a little sister's dream come true!"

"Look, I made a huge mess of everything with Lizzie right from the start. I know there's no hope there. I just want your help to match the impression I make on people with my true character. Do you understand what I'm asking?"

Gigi smiled. "Trust me, I get it. You have no idea how many times I've cringed watching you try to talk to people."

I looked down. "It's just…if I were to meet someone like Lizzie again, I would wish her to perceive me accurately."

Gigi smiled sympathetically. "Ok, William, I accept the challenge. Meet me at the corner coffee shop at 7 A.M. tomorrow. I'm going to do some research tonight." She grinned and pressed play on Lizzie's first video.

I took that as my cue to leave. "All right. See you tomorrow morning then."

The theme music from Lizzie's videos chased me out the door. I went home and actively occupied my mind with reorganizing my record collection. I hoped that asking for Gigi's help wouldn't backfire on me.

I met Gigi inside the coffee shop in the morning. Surprisingly, she was early and waiting for me. She dragged me back outside.

I protested, "What are you doing?"

"Lesson One. Ask the barista something when you order."

"What? Like a special order?"

"No, something more personal. You desperately need practice making small talk with people. One of the biggest reasons you seem arrogant is that you stand around stiffly and barely speak to anyone. People can't get to know you if you don't talk to them." She giggled. "What did Fitz call you, an agoraphobic lobster?"

I turned to leave. "This was a mistake."

She grabbed the sleeve of my jacket. "Sorry, sorry. I'm going to help you fix this, ok? Lesson One." She pointed me toward the door.

I frowned. "What would I possibly ask the barista? She's busy and doesn't have time for chit chat."

"I didn't say strike up a conversation. She's friendly and I talk to her all the time. Just ask her something about how busy they are or compliment the coffee, or you know, it's been raining all week and the sun is out today so you could say something about that."

I groaned. This was exactly the kind of thing I detested.

Gigi scolded, "Look, you asked for my help for a reason." She pointed at the door. "You can do this, William. Start small."

I grumbled, "Fine." I got in line with Gigi right behind me. I went over possible questions in my head. When I got to the front, I froze.

Gigi cleared her throat loudly behind me.

The barista said, "Hi." She looked at me expectantly. In a second she was going to lose her patience.

I blurted, "Busy today?"

She smiled warmly, "Yeah, but that's normal. We have a special on the pumpkin latte if you're interested." She pointed to a small sign I hadn't seen before. Asking a question had led to awareness of something I wouldn't have noticed otherwise, which I supposed could be advantageous. Unfortunately, now I felt obligated to purchase a pumpkin latte since she'd taken the time to point it out. I nodded. "Sure, I'll have a small one of those." I still didn't see the point of this.

I waited for Gigi at a small table. She beamed at me as she sat down. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

I frowned. "I didn't really want a pumpkin latte."

Gigi rolled her eyes. "You didn't have to order one. You could have just thanked her for pointing it out and ordered what you really wanted. Anyway, you'll get better with practice. Your homework is to ask one stranger per day something like that. You get a gold star for today."

"A gold star? What is this, kindergarten?"

"Pretty much, William. With lots of practice, someday you might not be mistaken for a robot."

I glared at her. "I knew I shouldn't have said anything about those videos."

"I stayed up half the night watching them." She patted my arm. "I kind of have a girl crush on Lizzie now, so don't feel too bad. But what the heck were you thinking? She posted the video with you…" Her eyes widened meaningfully. "You know…this morning. I just about died. Did you even ask her out on a date before that?"

I looked down at the table, embarrassed again. "No."

"Lesson Two-Don't tell someone you love them before you even go out on a date. Even if you hadn't already given her the worst possible impression of you before that, it was really weird."

I sank down in my chair, mortified. "I know, I kind of lost my mind that day."

She giggled. "Love will do that to you. But don't worry, I talked to Fitz and we're going to fix this."

Fitz knew too? I sank even lower into my chair. This was all a huge mistake.


	4. Episode 78--The Lizzie Trap

Episode 78—The Lizzie Trap. The first day that Darcy crosses paths with Lizzie at Pemberley Digital.

Gigi's Lesson 3 had been considering situations from someone else's point of view. I don't lack empathy and I have made plenty of compromises at work. However, I had never attempted to see the world from anyone else's perspective. My own perspective had served me admirably for many years. Gigi and Fitz had been relentless and had eventually convinced me of the added benefit of considering a situation from the different set of life experiences that defined a different person. Again, we had started small, by trying to connect how my Lesson 1 small talk questions could improve the day of a person in a service job who felt they were unappreciated. With practice, the words started to roll off my tongue more smoothly. It had even led to being asked on a date by a pretty concierge on one occasion when I had apparently been too convincing. I had declined. Although it had been two months since Lizzie had rejected me, I hadn't sufficiently removed her from my thoughts.

It recently came to my attention that a graduate student had applied to shadow my company, Pemberley Digital. My opinion was favorable, I was glad to encourage higher education whenever possible. During a meeting, when the name of the graduate student was revealed to be Lizzie Bennet, I choked on the water I had been drinking and nearly spit it across the conference table, garnering many strange looks from my staff. I couldn't change my mind at that point or it would have aroused undue suspicion.

Gigi, of course, was delighted. Fitz had been telling me the whole time that this was a small world and that I was bound to cross paths with Lizzie again. Therefore, I had prepared myself for a potential social meeting precipitated by our mutual acquaintances. I never dreamed that she would show up at Pemberley or that she would be here for weeks on a daily basis. Why would she choose my company, of all places? Was she doing this to torture me or to add to her collection of videos mocking my behavior? I didn't dare let myself hope that there was any other reason. I had business to attend to in Los Angeles anyway, so I avoided her for the first few days. Gigi had made it a point to meet Lizzie and had reported back that she already thought of her as a sister. Sometimes I wanted to strangle her.

Last night I dreamt that I saw Lizzie in a crowd and tried to follow her. I kept catching glimpses of her but as hard as I tried to fight through the crowd, she kept getting further away. I woke up drenched in sweat. I am no interpreter of dreams, but the meaning of that one seemed clear.

There was a Board of Directors meeting today, so it was impossible to avoid being in the same building as Lizzie. It felt juvenile to let her presence make me uncomfortable in my own company, but I could not escape it. I would not seek her out, but if I happened to run into her, I was determined to demonstrate that I had made improvements to my behavior since she saw me last. I rushed from my car to my office, barely acknowledging my staff. I had successfully avoided Lizzie on the way in. I closed my office door and sighed in relief, feeling ridiculous.

This board meeting was the first of 2013, so it lasted for most of the day. We discussed the company's performance in 2012 and set goals for 2013. We had lunch brought in to the conference room. There was no chance of running into Lizzie Bennet during lunch at least. The meeting was positive, we had managed strong growth even in the face of the poor economy. We had some lofty goals for 2013, including the launch of a new application, Domino, which was about to enter the testing phase. I tried to concentrate, but it was almost as if I could feel Lizzie's presence in the building and it repeatedly distracted me.

As the meeting wound down at the end of the day, I got nervous about running into Lizzie on the way out. After the rest of the Board left, I went into my office, which adjoined the conference room. I was mentally exhausted from the all-day meeting, but I could do some busy work until I was sure everyone had left the building, including Lizzie.

I had just convinced myself that hiding in my office was a reasonable plan when Gigi burst through my door, breathing heavily. "I need your help, William."

I looked up in surprise. "What's wrong, Gigi?"

"Let me show you."

I was suspicious and I didn't want to leave my comfort zone. "Can this wait until tomorrow?"

"No! You have to come right now. And hurry!" She grabbed my arm and pulled me from my chair. I had a bad feeling about this. She pulled me into the elevator.

I demanded, "Tell me what this is about."

"I can't explain, I just have to show you."

I took off my jacket as I broke into a nervous sweat, which was highly unusual for me. She dragged me out of the elevator and toward a closed office door. She opened the door as I said, "What's the hurry, I don't understand." She shoved me through the door toward a woman who was turning around and getting up in surprise. It was Lizzie with a shocked look on her face. Gigi pulled the door shut behind me. This was worse than the situation I had been terrified of all day. I wasn't just running into her in the hallway where a quick hello would suffice. I had been thrust into an office alone with her. My heart raced and I wanted to run back out the door. We just stared at each other in surprise for a few moments. This situation obviously disturbed her just as much as it did me.

Lizzie broke the silence with a surprised and almost apologetic, "Darcy!"

I responded, "Lizzie."

"I thought you were in L.A."

"Oh, no. I'm, uh…not." Oh god, I was back in idiot mode, stating the obvious.

"Clearly."

Gigi had evidently been listening through the door. She barged in and shoved me toward a chair, pressing on my shoulders to make me sit down. She did the same to Lizzie and left again. My mind went blank as I searched for something to say.

Lizzie said, "Your sister is crazy."

I looked around. Once again, I realized I was being filmed. I agreed, "Yes."

Lizzie and I were both uncomfortable victims of Gigi's scheming, which meant we had something in common for once. I glanced over at Lizzie. Now was the time to show her how I'd changed. I would politely apologize for interrupting her.

We both spoke at once, unnervingly using precisely the same words, "I didn't mean to surprise you." We looked at each other uncomfortably again for a moment.

We both spoke at the same time again. I said, "I'm here for a board meeting."

She said, "I'm here shadowing your company."

I hadn't expected that she would be so uncomfortable about being here, since it had been her choice. In fact, her whole demeanor was different, softer and almost apologetic. What did it mean? Her eyes had never looked as beautiful as they did right now. Although she still looked surprised, she'd never looked at me before without a hard edge to her eyes. My traitorous heart glowed in response. Her auburn hair was pulled to one side and her dangling earrings drew my attention to the creamy white skin on the exposed side her neck. I longed to touch it to see if it was as soft as it looked. I'd forgotten how strongly her presence affected me.

I tore my eyes away before I became permanently transfixed and replied, "I uh, was aware." Perhaps she would explain her reasons for being here. "You're shadowing Pemberley." It was a statement as well as a question.

She looked away and down, as if she was embarrassed, but offered no explanation. I didn't understand her reaction. I resorted to my newly practiced skills of trying to put myself in her place and determined that if she did feel uncomfortable, it probably had something to do with her expectations of my behavior toward her. If I made her feel welcome, I could demonstrate the improvements I'd been making as well as lessen her anxiety about my behavior during her time at Pemberley. I had every intention of treating her politely and not going anywhere near the topic of our former interactions. This would be a fresh start.

I employed one of my new phrases. "I hope you've enjoyed your stay."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. Evidently, my polite behavior was truly shocking to her. She smiled a little as she said, "Yes." She looked away as she continued, "This place is amazing. Everyone has been incredibly kind." She sounded genuinely pleased. Her smile was clearly for Pemberley, but I enjoyed it all the same.

I asked, "Even my sister?" I looked at the camera pointedly, knowing she would see this eventually.

"Yes, in her own special way." Lizzie also looked at the camera sending Gigi a similar message.

I continued, "I'm glad." I ran out of things to say.

Lizzie's smile faded as we stared at each other for a few uncomfortable seconds, she seemed to be trying to understand my new behavior while I tried to understand why she was here.

She said, "Anyway, I have to go."

I could barely mask my disappointment. "So soon?" Although I'd been worried about seeing her for days, now that she was in front of me I didn't want to part from her.

She said, "Well, I'm having dinner down by the marina."

I grasped at any reason to stay in her presence longer. Gigi had mentioned that Lizzie hadn't brought her car. A brilliant idea popped into my mind—I could drive her to the marina! That would serve two purposes, to demonstrate more polite behavior as well as my own desire to be close to her for a few minutes more. "May I offer you a ride?"

"Oh, that's…that's all right, I can walk."

She was new to San Francisco and might not realize the toll of walking over the hills from here to the marina in business attire. I added, "I uh…the hills in this city can be quite unforgiving."

"I've heard. But I'd like to see the city." Her tone and the way she looked down made me realize she was trying to turn down my offer politely. The butterflies in my stomach all died painfully as I realized that the thought of spending time with me still repulsed her that strongly. She had rejected me again, just more subtly this time.

"Understood." I conveyed my comprehension that she was rejecting me as well as the car ride. I looked down in a mixture of shame and sadness. What had I expected? That she would suddenly want to spend time with a man who she must still hate so vehemently? I was an idiot to think that a few minutes of my polite behavior could change her mind about me even enough to accept a simple ten minute car ride.

I said, "Well, I should…" I got up and cleared my throat uncomfortably, trying to push back the sting of fresh rejection.

Lizzie stood up too. The look on her face almost seemed apologetic as she said, "Have um…have a good day, Darcy."

I employed another of my new phrases, trying to sound nonchalant. "I'll see you around."

We stared at each other for another long second.

I was still determined to be polite, despite her rejection. I used a phrase I'd picked up from hotel managers that seemed appropriate. "If there's anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable…"

She reached out and touched my forearm. "Thank you."

I felt like I'd been hit by lightning. She'd never touched me before. What did it mean? After she rejected me, she touched and thanked me? I was extremely confused.

I hurried back to my office. The place where she'd touched my arm still tingled. I called Fitz. I needed a drink, badly.


	5. Episode 80--Darcy's 1st costume theater

I'd been spending a good deal of time analyzing myself lately. I was still determined to change Lizzie's mind about my character.

After my parents' deaths, I found myself responsible for keeping my father's company, his life's work as well as my grandfather's, from being chopped into pieces and sold by a Board of Directors who had no faith in me. I also became responsible for my younger sister, who was still in high school. My reaction to the heavy yolk of these new responsibilities was to endeavor to become impervious to criticism and eradicate any facets of my personality that could expose me to any type of censure. My predisposed tendencies toward order and control became an obsession. I became extremely serious and judgmental of those who were not. I organized my life down to the minute, controlling every detail and pushing myself to become as productive as possible. I left nothing to chance. It was the only way I survived those difficult years. Finally, Pemberley Digital was now firmly under my control with a new supportive Board of Directors and Gigi was nearly finished with her undergraduate degree. The worst was behind me, but I hadn't been able to loosen my grip on myself and enjoy life. I suspected that one of the reasons I was attracted to Lizzie was her ability to have fun and to laugh so freely.

The practice of conversing with strangers and seeing things from other points of view had begun to affect me on a deeper level and had started to become habit instead of merely exercises. Spurred on by Lizzie's scathing words of rejection that still haunted me, I had begun to open my mind and foster a tolerance for opinions and tastes that differed from my own. I was beginning to truly change. It frightened me but it also gave me hope.

Although I had dreaded my first interaction with Lizzie at Pemberley, it had not been as terrible as I had anticipated. It was awkward, but it had been civil. I was determined to build on that foundation during our next encounter. My best course of action was to try to talk to her again. I began to fabricate reasons to pass through the hall outside her office in the hopes of crossing her path.

One week after Gigi thrust me into Lizzie's office, I decided to personally retrieve some records that I needed from the file room. I had given my hard-working executive assistant the day off since I knew her young daughter had the flu. She had a look of shock on her face when I told her to stay home until her daughter was recovered and not to worry about it counting against her allotted sick days. When I'd tried to see her point of view, I realized that she had been loyal to me for many years and I wanted to acknowledge that.

Pemberley was still in the process of converting the archived hard copy files into digital files. It was taking a long time since organization and documentation had been important to my father and grandfather as well, resulting in a lot of paperwork. It was no coincidence that the file room was near the office that Lizzie was utilizing. The ventilation wasn't working properly in the file room, so I rolled up my shirtsleeves as I searched for the file. I was heading out of the file room when I saw Lizzie approaching. I walked toward her, trying to appear casual.

I asked politely, "Lizzie, may I help you?"

She said, "I'm looking for your sister."

"She's at tennis practice. Did you need something?" I dared to hope that the answer would be yes.

She looked toward her office. "Um, maybe?"

"How can I be of service?"

"I was looking for someone to help me with a video."

"Oh, well, I could help I suppose…if you'd like."

I followed her into the office and sat down next to her. When her forearm brushed against mine, I nearly jumped. It felt like a trail of sparks along my skin. I silently thanked the broken ventilation in the file room for making me roll up my sleeves.

"How do you feel about costume theater?"

I tried to focus. "It can be interesting."

"So…you'll do it?"

I was cautiously skeptical. "Who would you need me to… uh, portray?"

"You, actually."

She really wanted me to dress up as myself? "And you would be playing…?"

"Me."

Oh god, what scene did she want to reenact? I tried to be funny even though I was quite uncomfortable. "Well, that will certainly make the costumes easier to obtain."

She sighed and explained, "Look, there's this theory about levels of mediation in media that says its possible for artificiality to both remind the audience that what they are seeing is a construction while at the same time adding to their level of immersion. I thought…forget it, it's stupid."

It seemed like she was saying that the only way she would be comfortable having a real conversation with me was in the guise of costume theater. I was agreeable to that suggestion. I repeated back her meaning to convey my understanding of the concept. "You thought that costume theater as ourselves would remind the audience that this isn't a conversation we would naturally have but because of that, the obviously constructed nature of the scene would by its very artificiality create its own sense of verisimilitude."

She looked at me incredulously. "Have you taken Dr. Gardiner's seminar on interactive media?"

"No, but I am a fan of her work."

She said hopefully, "So you'll do it?"

The only thing I could control was how I created my own costume. "Just a moment, excuse me." I would deny this under oath until the end of time, but I would have even agreed to wear a gorilla suit if that had been the requirement to spend time with her. I raced back to my office. I had the required hat because Gigi had worn it into my office mimicking me a while ago to tease me. For reasons I couldn't quite explain, I hadn't returned it to the wardrobe department yet. I always kept a spare bowtie and tie as well as a dress shirt on hand in case I spilled something during lunch, as every wise executive should. I replaced my tie with the bowtie in the elevator and donned the hat outside her door.

When I reentered the office, Lizzie's mouth dropped open in surprise.

I sat back down, 'accidentally' brushing her forearm with my own, sending a ripple of electricity all the way up my arm to my spine. I explained, "It was the closest I could find on short notice."

As Lizzie bent down to pick up the plaid shirt that constituted her costume, her dress shifted slightly and my eyes were drawn to the small amount of exposed alabaster skin of the back of her thigh just above the curve of her knee. It was hardly risqué, but it was affecting me more than I had expected. My heartbeat was nearly deafening in my ears. It was so loud that I began to worry that she could hear it. Although the plaid shirt covered her forearms, I could still feel the heat of her skin through the material. I struggled to control my breathing.

I tried to sound normal, "Do you have a script for this?"

"Nope, I figured we'd wing it."

I was immensely relieved that we weren't going to reenact any painful scenes from our past conversations. "Okay."

She blurted out, "Why didn't you tell Bing about my videos?"

She'd put me on the spot. I answered truthfully, "I didn't think it was my place. You've respected my confidences, after all."

"Really? What about when Charlotte and I…"

I interrupted her, "If I knew a Darvid, perhaps he would feel differently."

"I sort of thought you would tell him."

The truth was I was now somewhat ashamed of my own actions. "Would you want your best friend to see you confess to meddling in his affairs?"

She countered, "I think he knows you meddle in his affairs."

"Perhaps. But by your own admission, Jane has moved on with her life."

She said softly, "That's true."

"And if Bing truly felt a strong attachment, would he have been so easily parted from her?" At least this is what I kept telling myself to justify my actions.

She exclaimed, "Isn't finding happiness hard enough? Why is it your job, or my job, or anyone's job to test the strength of their relationship?"

I asked her the question that had been torturing me. "If Bing were to learn the true nature of Jane's feelings and seek her out, do you think she would take him back?"

"I'm honestly not sure."

"Then perhaps more meddling even with the best of intentions would only cause them more pain."

She looked up at me through her eyelashes. "Do you think Bing still cares about Jane?" Her expression and tone suggested that this question had a second meaning. Was she inquiring about my own feelings as well? The look in her eyes was unreadable.

I couldn't answer that question with this stupid hat on, so I took it off. The words on the tip of my tongue were, 'Yes, Lizzie I'm still hopelessly in love with you.'

I forced out different words, but the meaning behind them was the same, "I think you should ask him." The air between us was thick with unsaid words and unclear meanings. I found myself drifting slightly toward her as my eyes were repeatedly drawn to her lips. I narrowly gained control of myself before I destroyed our fragile rapport by trying to kiss her. I tore my eyes away, looking back at the camera. I needed to be more careful around her; it was far too easy to lose control.

My words stumbled out, betraying how affected I had been, "Was… How was that? Was that all right?"

"Yes, thank you…very helpful."

"Oh, good. Um…is there anything else?" Part of me wanted to run out of the room. The other part wanted to stay forever.

"Nope, that's all. I know you're busy."

I hesitated for a second, but I couldn't fabricate a reason to stay. "Very well."

I dragged myself out of her office and went back to my own. As much as I tried, I was too distracted to get any more work done all day. I kept replaying our interaction in my mind and analyzing it. I was convinced that this must represent progress. Although Lizzie had felt the need to use costume theater as a buffer in order to have a meaningful conversation with me, at least she had talked to me. As silly as it had been to dress up as myself, the artificial construction had actually helped me feel comfortable talking to her as well. I wondered if this is how we would have all conversations in the future. That is, if I were presumptuous enough to think we would have any conversations in the future, now that she had asked her questions about Bing and Jane.

Two days later, Gigi came up with the brilliant idea to take Lizzie on a tour of San Francisco with us next weekend. As soon as Lizzie accepted her invitation, I began to plan a detailed itinerary.


	6. After Episode 80--The San Francisco Tour

_This is what might have happened when Darcy and Gigi showed Lizzie around San Francisco after Episode 80 and before Episode 83, from Darcy's point of view. Thanks so much for the kind words of encouragement-they are greatly appreciated!_

I proudly placed my carefully constructed itinerary into Gigi's outstretched hand.

Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she read it over. She looked up at me, her eyes wide with horror. "You calculated the travel time between each of these places and even scheduled restroom breaks?"

I got defensive, "I merely wanted to ensure that there was adequate time to see everything on the itinerary today."

"This is just like that awful trip you took me on to Washington D.C. when I was in high school. I didn't have time to enjoy anything as you dragged me from place to place."

I defended my strategy, "Well, now you've seen the highlights and can revisit your favorites in more depth next time."

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, William, but I can't let you do this." She tore the paper in two.

I bristled at the destruction of what I thought was a perfect schedule.

She continued, "We're supposed to be showing her the city, not a bunch of boring museum exhibits. Save those for a rainy day."

I snapped, "Then, what would you suggest?"

"This city is alive, William, and that's what we need to show her. Leave it to me."

I grudgingly agreed. I had a back up of my original itinerary on my phone just in case.

We picked up Lizzie early in the morning. I hadn't bothered with my contacts today and Lizzie seemed surprised to see me in glasses. Although it was chilly, it was a bright sunny day. We fortified ourselves with coffee and pastries at a café near the Bay. I suspected that Gigi was taking pictures of me as well as the scenery, but I didn't really want to think about it. Our next stop was the famous Fisherman's Wharf. Gigi and Lizzie were giggling as Gigi took a photo of Lizzie in front of a case of fish. I noticed there was a pile of lobsters on top of the case. I blushed as I speculated whether they were ridiculing me. Maybe this had been a bad idea. We made the obligatory trip to Alcatraz. Lizzie and I had another awkward moment on the audio tour inside a prison cell when she was trying to leave after I had just entered. We both side stepped in the same direction several times until I just stopped moving so she could get past me. Gigi's constant laughter was starting to grate on my nerves. We took pictures of the Golden Gate Bridge and the several other famous attractions as I tried to supply interesting facts about each of them. After Gigi hissed "Boring!" at me a few times, I resolved to remain silent.

The next stop on Gigi's tour was Ghirardelli Square, the highlight of which was, of course, the Ghirardelli Ice Cream and Chocolate Shop.

Without thinking, I said, "Did you know that Ghirardelli got its start during the gold rush?" I stopped myself from elaborating as I realized that this was probably another one of my boring facts.

Lizzie said, "No, but I guess even gold miners needed their chocolate fix. I can relate to that." She smiled at me, a real smile this time that was clearly intended for me. Her eyes twinkled as they joined in the smile. She'd never smiled at me like that before. My heart raced as everything spun and I couldn't breathe. I think she said something else, but I couldn't comprehend it. I quickly pulled my phone out, pretending it had buzzed.

I mumbled, "Excuse me a moment." I stopped and fake texted as Gigi and Lizzie entered the chocolate store. Gigi glared at me as she went inside.

I stayed outside until my heart rate and breathing had returned to their normal pace. This woman was going to be the death of me. Inside, I found Lizzie and Gigi tasting samples of various flavors of chocolate.

Lizzie giggled. "Oh, now I get why they are called Ghirardelli Squares. They're named after this place."

Gigi grinned and nodded. "I think you're right." She turned toward me and pointed at a dish. "William, dark chocolate with mint inside. Your favorite."

"I'm aware of what it tastes like."

She gave me a dirty look behind Lizzie's back.

I rolled my eyes and joined in the tasting. Lizzie proclaimed her favorite to be dark chocolate with raspberry filling. I insisted on buying her some. We exited the store and were walking around looking at the other shops in the square when I noticed that Lizzie had a little bit of raspberry filling on her chin.

I turned toward Gigi for help. She seemed to grasp my meaning, but instead of saying anything to Lizzie, she escaped into a lingerie store, where she knew I wouldn't follow her. Lizzie seemed embarrassed about following her inside as well. Perhaps she was being polite and didn't want to abandon me.

I was forced to say something. In as non-offensive a tone as I could proffer, I said, "I'm sorry, Lizzie, but you seem to have a little raspberry filling…" I pointed at my own chin to indicate the location.

Her cheeks turned scarlet as she tried to wipe it off unsuccessfully. She dug around in her purse. "Oh, I changed purses and didn't put my mirror in here." She tried to see her reflection in the window, but it wasn't clear enough. She seemed defeated when she looked at me hopefully. "Do you mind? I mean…we're friends now, right?"

I blinked a few times. Did she just invite me to touch her face? Was this really happening? My heart raced again. I cleared my throat, trying to pretend that this was a normal occurrence.

My brain struggled to communicate with my mouth, "No… I mean yes, we're friends and no, I don't mind." I gently reached out and swiped the errant raspberry filling from her chin with my finger, trying to ignore how much my hand was trembling. Her skin was softer even than in my imagination. I longed to touch more of it, to take her face in both my hands and kiss her, but I didn't dare. I was determined not to ruin our newly acknowledged friendship. Her blue eyes grew wide as my face got close to hers while I ensured that I'd removed all traces of the raspberry filling. There was a long awkward moment when we just looked into each other's eyes. I blinked and stepped back, looking down.

In a breathy voice she said, "Thanks…"

I nodded. "Of course." I used a phrase that Fitz employed regularly. "What are friends for?"

She brightened. "Exactly."

Gigi bounced back out of the lingerie store. The grin on her face told me that she had been watching the entire time.

For lunch, we went to Chinatown for freshly made dumplings. Lizzie had never tried them before, so I ordered a selection of different flavors.

When the first steamer basket arrived, Lizzie fumbled with her chopsticks and was unable to pick up a dumpling.

She blushed. "I'm sorry, maybe I should ask for a fork. I've never really understood how these things are supposed to work."

Gigi shrugged, "William showed me how." Gigi looked at me. "Why don't you teach Lizzie too?"

I narrowed my eyes at Gigi. I was just about to request a fork. She kicked me under the table.

Lizzie looked at me expectantly with a small smile.

I nodded. "Certainly, if you wish." I held up my chopsticks. "The proper technique is to anchor one chopstick with pressure from your thumb against your middle finger, like this." I demonstrated.

Lizzie copied me.

I nodded and continued, "That one doesn't move. The second chopstick is held between your index finger and the tip of your thumb. You move your index finger to pivot the chopstick and apply pressure to pick up the item." I demonstrated again.

Lizzie tried to copy me but her chopstick flipped onto her plate. She picked up the chopstick again and thrust her hand toward me. "Here, show me."

She was inviting me to touch her again. This was quite possibly the best day of my life. My heart raced again. As I reached for her hand, I was shaking so badly that I was genuinely concerned that the chopsticks would fly across the room. I took a deep breath and managed to control my hands enough to gently wrap them around hers as I carefully placed the chopsticks into proper position.

I could feel Gigi's grin beaming at me without even looking up.

We shared a few laughs as she dropped a few dumplings on the table during lunch, but generally she did an adequate job of utilizing her chopsticks. When Gigi complimented her quick learning, she attributed her skills to her teacher and gave me another heart stopping smile. The conversation flowed more easily than it ever had before and I started to feel a little more comfortable in Lizzie's presence.

At the end of the day, after I reluctantly dropped Lizzie off, I noticed a billboard for a show that was about to open at the theatre where Gigi and I maintain box seats. I decided that I should invite Lizzie to accompany us. Perhaps if I was feeling exceedingly brave, I might even invite her to accompany me alone.

Later that evening, I texted Gigi to thank her. She responded by telling me to check twitter. I followed her directive and discovered a message from Lizzie thanking Gigi and me for 'an awesome day.' Gigi texted me again to point out that the tweet had been to me and not to her. I ignored Gigi and responded to Lizzie with a simple message, "Our pleasure."

In truth, it had been more pleasurable that I could have ever imagined when I woke up this morning. Lizzie had announced that we were friends, which far exceeded my expectations after the way she had repeatedly professed her pure hatred of me on her videos. She had actually smiled at me several times, each time a gift that my heart had memorized and would treasure in perpetuity. I'd even touched her twice, the memory of her creamy skin still lingering on my hands. Yes, it had been my pleasure indeed.


	7. Episode 83--Lizzie Interviews Darcy

_This chapter picks up the Monday after Darcy and Gigi showed Lizzie around San Francisco, the day that Lizzie interviews him for her independent study. Thanks so much for reading and for commenting, I appreciate it!_

On Monday, I awoke before an hour before my alarm. I was restless, anxious to see Lizzie again as soon as possible. During my morning run, I remembered that this weekend Lizzie had mentioned that although the coffee at Pemberley was fine, it was too far to walk to the shop with her favorite brand of coffee. I recalled that she had ordered a latte at breakfast this weekend and decided that it would be an acceptably friendly gesture to bring her one from her favorite place. I purchased a second latte to deflect suspicion that my actions were solely on her behalf.

Gigi supplied intelligence about what time Lizzie typically came in to work. I arrived at the building a few minutes in advance, lattes in hand. I caught a glimpse of her approaching, but she turned unexpectedly into a small park directly across the street. She sat down on a bench and bent over. As I looked closer, I realized she was changing her shoes. Evidently, she'd learned enough about walking the hills in this city to wear walking shoes for most of the journey. I smiled to myself. She apparently didn't want anyone to see her wearing the walking shoes. As I ducked back into the lobby, our security guard, Fred, gave me a knowing smile. For one petrifying moment, I contemplated whether Fred watched Lizzie's videos. I sighed as I looked back at Lizzie. Even if he did, it wouldn't change my actions.

When Lizzie got close to the building, I walked toward the elevator bank, trying to give the appearance of a chance meeting. I looked up at the elevator lights, pretending not to notice her enter the lobby.

When she approached the elevators, she said, "Good morning, Darcy."

I turned toward her in fake surprise. "Oh, good morning Lizzie, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there." She was wearing a blue-green dress that accentuated the blue in her eyes. The deep neckline encouraged my eyes to gaze lower.

She muffled a laugh as she leaned forward and pushed the elevator call button. "I'll just go ahead and push this then." She arched an eyebrow at me, questioningly.

I tucked my chin, fearing that my ruse had been discovered. "Oh, yes, right you are, of course. Just have a lot on my mind today, you know, uh a lot of…important meetings." While it was true that I had several meetings scheduled today, they had nothing to do with the reason I'd forgotten to press the button to call the elevator.

An elevator opened. One of my star employees, Kate, was already inside, on her way up from the underground parking garage. Kate was a mid-level executive who ran the Production Department. She was an attractive blonde about my age, but I'd always been diligent about not dating employees. I introduced Kate and Lizzie. When Kate started to pitch one of her ideas to me, I told her to come by my office later to discuss it. When I glanced at Lizzie, I couldn't help but notice that she was studying Kate.

Kate eyed the coffee cups in my hands. "Oh, no. Don't tell me the coffee machines in the company café are broken again."

I shook my head. "No. That is, not to my knowledge." I looked down at the coffee. "This was a special order."

Kate grinned. "You really do spoil your sister. Gigi is lucky to have a brother like you."

I just nodded, avoiding making this any more uncomfortable by correcting her with the truth. Kate got out of the elevator one floor below Lizzie's. I had to act fast or completely miss my opportunity.

I cleared my throat and tried to remember what I'd planned to say. My words poured out in a jumbled mess, "I uh…that is, only if you'd like one, of course…I uh…got you a latte at the coffee shop…that you mentioned."

She looked confused for a moment, which was not surprising after my mangled sentence. "Oh! That's for me?" Her eyes lit up as a smile spread over her face. "My favorite place. Thanks, Darcy. That was very…thoughtful of you."

My heart glowed in response to her smile, warming me from head to toe. I held out one of the coffees as the elevator stopped at her floor. Lizzie's fingers were cold from the brisk morning air as they touched mine while she wrapped her hand around the cup. I almost flinched as the unexpected contact set my nerve endings on fire. She glanced back and beamed another stunning smile at me before the elevator doors closed behind her. I felt so light that I could have floated the rest of the way up to my office.

I would suffer a thousand humiliations to see her here every day. I mused about whether she would accept an offer to work at Pemberley after graduation. I considered giving the other latte to Gigi, but decided to drink it myself instead. I cherished the tiny connection to Lizzie as we both drank the same coffee even if it was in different parts of the building.

Gigi stopped by to inform me that Lizzie would like to interview the CEO of Pemberley Digital for her independent study project. I was suddenly glad I'd decided to wear a suit jacket today. I took a deep breath and went down to Lizzie's office.

After knocking, I said, "Excuse me, Lizzie. Um, Gigi told me you wanted me."

She stared for a moment, looking somewhat shocked. "She did?"

Had Gigi been mistaken? I tried to explain my intrusion. "Yes, for an interview? For your independent study?"

"Yes, yes. That is if you have the time and don't mind appearing on my videos again…some more."

I sat down next to her. "No, I don't mind and uh yes, I have the time… or I'll make it." In fact, I'd just rescheduled an important meeting without hesitation in order to spend time with her.

"Great, um, let me just get the door."

She got up before I could react and close the door for her. As she got up and walked around me, she planted her hand on my shoulder. It was a friendly gesture, something I'd seen her do on her videos, but not something she'd ever done to me. The deliberate contact of her hand as she leaned on me lasted just a moment, but it stretched into an eternity as it sent shock waves through me. Several emotions exploded in my chest in rapid fire. Tiny bursts of joy and hope were followed by mournful thoughts about what might have been. An icy wave of regret crashed over me, extinguishing the happy feelings and threatening to overwhelm me. I struggled to maintain my composure, knowing that although Lizzie couldn't see me right now, the camera missed nothing. During the few seconds it took her to close the door and return, I desperately tried to regain my focus. I must remain professional. This was supposed to be an interview with the CEO of Pemberley Digital, not the exposure of a lovelorn fool.

She sat back down. "So…"

"So?" I waited for her to ask a question.

"Why don't you tell us about Pemberley Digital?"

I did my best to sound like the polished CEO version of myself. "What would your viewers like to know?"

"Anything that isn't on the website? Let's start with the name. What does Pemberley mean?"

"Oh, uh, Pemberley is the name of the place that my father's family comes from in England. " I could almost hear Gigi hissing 'boring' at me. I turned to Lizzie, "I'm sorry, that's boring."

She surprised me by saying, "No, I like it. It gives a sense of history to a new endeavor, especially one with such a young CEO."

That sounded like a compliment. Did Lizzie just pay me a compliment? I stopped my train of thought in its tracks before it could get carried away and turn me back into a stammering idiot. I summoned the standard response to questions about my age that I'd delivered in countless interviews. "Uh…I just consider myself lucky, I discovered something early that I loved to do and do well and built my company around that." My focus had been shifting Pemberley from its emphasis on film to digital and internet based formats.

Whether or not Lizzie had intended to compliment me, I was long overdue in paying her a compliment. It had even been one of her complaints during her rejection of me. I decided to compliment her on her videos, a compliment that I felt had true substance and was well deserved. "You must know what I mean, what with your videos."

She looked at me in surprise. "My videos?"

I reiterated my early comment to clarify my meaning. "You discovered something that you love to do and do well."

She seemed truly embarrassed. She downplayed her project, "They're just little videos, me telling stories about my mundane life."

Did she truly not realize how effectively her videos connected with her audience? She could not have garnered the attention of so many viewers otherwise. I argued, "But it resonates with people. You're a natural storyteller."

She looked down, speechless.

Apparently, I was going to have to prove the validity of my compliment. "All right, I'll show you that what you do is special. Walk me through how you make a video."

She resisted by teasing, "Aren't I supposed to be interviewing you?"

I wouldn't allow her to avoid acknowledging her accomplishments so easily. I motioned for her to continue as if I were talking with Gigi about her accomplishments. They both were prone to become embarrassed about things that they should be proud of.

"Fine, um, usually I start with a timely topic, something that happened recently in my life, like…" She turned toward me. "I went out to karaoke with your sister last night. Then there might be a reenactment to help explain things, you know, costume theater."

I interrupted her to make my point. "Now that is an example about something unique and different and creative about how you make your videos." I was somewhat surprised as I realized I'd somehow become comfortable enough to use my hands for emphasis rather than clamping them together in my lap like I usually did when talking with Lizzie.

She smiled and teased, "Even when it leads indirectly to me calling you a newsie?"

I assured her, "Even then. So how would you costume theater your karaoke excursion with Gigi?"

"Uh, well I'm not going to sing, that's for sure. And since you're here, you would have to be my assistant." She looked at me expectantly.

With horror, I realized too late the hole I'd just dug for myself. I tried to reverse course. I shifted my weight uncomfortably. "I don't think that's necessary."

She wasn't going to let me escape. "Oh no, you started this, you're not going to chicken out now." She teased, "Come on, it's not like it's your first time."

I narrowed my eyes at her but she didn't relent.

Lizzie's costume for Gigi was the same hat that she used for my costume, just adorned with a flower. I cringed at the thought of Gigi's reaction to this imagery. She had always strived to be defined as someone much different than me.

Lizzie said, "So, what should we sing?"

I spoke in falsetto, trying to mimic Gigi's voice as I read the script, "Well…well, I always go for the classic musicals."

Lizzie suppressed her laughter at my impression of Gigi. "So, Rogers & Hammerstein?"

"That's not classic, that's…old." My discomfort overwhelmed me. I took off the hat as I said, "I'm sorry, I can't do this."

She pleaded, "No, why?"

"It's just too…strange. I don't want her to think I'm mocking her." I quickly turned toward Lizzie, "I apologize. That's a harsh word."

She looked down as she agreed. "No, I understand. I know I have used costume theater to paint a picture of people that only shows my limited perspective and that can seem mocking. Like with…my mother."

For a brief moment I'd almost thought that she might be talking about her portrayal of me. I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "Your mother?"

"Yes, uh, my mother is obsessed with marrying off her daughters but anyone who watches the videos can see that she cares about us and in her own way wants what's best. So I'm trying to be better at portraying people from more than just my perspective."

I seized the opportunity to reveal that I had been endeavoring to change too. "I'm trying the same thing, to see from other points of view. Although I'm not sure I can do it from my sister's, it feels very…strange." As much as she irritated me sometimes, the last thing I wanted to do was to cause Gigi any pain.

"Ok, well, um, I had a phone call with my dad, we could reenact that?"

I turned toward the camera, feeling equally uncomfortable with the idea of potentially insulting her father.

She changed her mind. "No, that…that would be weird. Um, I video conferenced with Charlotte." She quickly thought better of it. "No." She brightened as an idea came to her, "Um, I had lunch with Fitz!"

I embraced that idea. "Fitz. I could be Fitz. After all Fitz got to be me. I believe this is what they call payback."

She frowned, "Oh, there's just one problem. I don't have a costume for Fitz."

I assured her, "Oh, it's not a problem."

"It's not?"

"The Production Department on the third floor has a wardrobe department."

I went as quickly as I could without actually breaking into a run. In the elevator, I tried to determine the best costume for Fitz. We'd had several conversations about how proud he was of his 'fabulous' hair, so I decided to look for a wig. I found one with the help of an assistant. On my way out, I bumped into Kate.

She looked at the wig in my hands and arched an eyebrow.

I shrugged. "Don't worry, I'll return it straight away."

She looked at me quizzically, "It's not the wig I'm worried about. Are you feeling ok?"

I nodded and answered honestly, "I've never felt better."

I raced back to Lizzie's office and put on the wig just outside the door for full effect. I felt certain that Fitz would have a good laugh at this as well. When I walked back in her office wearing the wig, Lizzie clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle a shriek of laughter.

I sat back down, trying to stay in Fitz's character. I imitated Fitz's gestures and his penchant for rhyming as I leaned back and pointed at Lizzie, "So…Lizzie B! Tell me all about how you are getting on at the Pem-ber-ley!"

Lizzie doubled over with unrestrained laughter, a sweeter sound I'd never heard.

I got up and moved close to the camera, the way I remembered Fitz doing when he said he was ready for his close up, eliciting more laughter.

I, William Darcy, who had once been accused of being joyless and soulless, had just made Lizzie Bennet laugh. I felt like I was flying.


	8. Episode 84--Darcy asks Lizzie out

Lizzie Bennet Diaries Episode 84: From Darcy's point of view

I paced back and forth in the conference room and tried to gather enough courage to go downstairs and ask Lizzie Bennet out on a date. In this conference room, I was the captain of the ship, confidently navigating my company through perilous waters with ease. Outside these walls, it was a different story. In social situations, I preferred to stay on the sidelines and observe people rather than engage strangers. The worst was when I was anywhere near Lizzie Bennet.

The first time I saw Lizzie, something about her unexpectedly drew me in. It hadn't let me go, despite the way she'd brutally rejected me when I told her I was in love with her. Unfortunately, watching her videos had made me fall further in love with her as I saw more of her intelligence, wit, and humor as well as how much she cared about her friends and family. It also gave me a unique chance to observe myself the way I usually observed others. I was mortified to realize that Lizzie had only perceived my worst qualities. Caroline, someone who actually knew me, hadn't helped matters at all. I immediately set out to rectify the situation by writing Lizzie a letter to explain myself much more effectively than I could do verbally. Trying to talk to her overwhelmed me to the point where I was frequently at a loss for words. In her videos, Lizzie had described me as a malfunctioning robot and she wasn't exactly wrong.

I tried to bury my unrequited feelings, but it became impossible when she showed up at Pemberley to study my company. My sister, Gigi, meant well, but she kept constructing situations to put Lizzie and me in the same room. At first, my only goal was to try to redeem myself in Lizzie's eyes. I wanted to show her the professional side of my personality to balance the way she perceived me. Unfortunately, the more I saw her, the harder it was to smother the flames in my heart, especially when she started to smile at me. I'd always been stunned by the way her eyes light up when she smiles. Historically, her smiles had faded quickly when she looked at me. The first time she directed a genuine smile at me, I was so surprised that I couldn't even hear what she was saying. I had to excuse myself and fake text to regain my composure.

My phone buzzed. It was a text from my nosy sister alerting me that Lizzie had returned to the building. I rehearsed what I planned to say to Lizzie for the thousandth time. I took a deep breath and reached for the conference room door handle. I turned the knob with confidence and swung the door wide open. My legs were frozen and wouldn't move. After a few inquisitive glances from my employees, I slammed the door and leaned against it, gasping for breath. The prospect of being rejected by Lizzie again terrified me, especially since I always seemed to catch her while she was filming. I knew my humiliation would be broadcast to the public, including my best friend, Fitz, and my sister, Gigi, who would never let me live it down. I walked into my office, which adjoined the conference room. I went into my private bathroom and splashed some water on my face. I used the lint brush one more time on my black shirt just in case any lint had settled there in the last ten minutes.

I'd been up here all morning trying to build up the nerve to ask Lizzie to the theater for tonight's performance. I'd been making up excuses to put off asking her ever since the thought crossed my mind this weekend while we were touring the city. The performance was tonight. What if she already had plans? If she did, at least it would let me off the hook. I couldn't wait any longer. It was now or never. I told myself to think of this as a business proposal. I marched out of the conference room and went down to the office where Lizzie was sitting. Her voice sounded cheerful as she recorded another of her videos. I sighed. I was definitely going to be in front of the camera again. At least I would have proof to show Gigi that I had really tried. I knocked twice.

Lizzie's voice called, "Come in."

I pretended I was walking into my precious conference room and addressing my board. I said, "Good afternoon, Lizzie."

"Good afternoon to you."

I sat down as confidently as I could, giving a small smile to acknowledge the viewers. It wasn't the camera that made me nervous. I tried to sound friendly. "So, how are you doing today?"

She grinned and said, "Today is a pretty good day, actually." She looked me over, raised her eyebrows, and smiled. "And you?"

The way she looked me over and her exuberant smile made me want to kiss her and sent my system into overload. In the imaginary conversation I had rehearsed a thousand times in my head, she was supposed to say 'fine'. Her enthusiasm about how well her day was going made me realize I could be about to ruin her day as well as mine. My mind went completely blank.

I struggled to string some intelligible words together in reply. "Well, hopefully…it will…be a good day…too." I realized how stupid that sounded as soon as it left my lips. Her soft sigh as she smiled at the camera prompted the image of her reenacting this scene as a full blown Darcybot malfunction. Oh god. I spiraled and couldn't come up with any words at all.

She saved me by prompting, "Was there something you needed from me?"

A few words came back to my brain. "Oh, no. I mean…that is to say, uh…yes, I wanted to…ask you something." Damn, I sounded like an idiot. I wouldn't go out with me either.

"Okay."

I finally recalled my rehearsed question. "My sister and I have a box at the theatre and I was wondering if you'd like to attend…tonight."

Her phone beeped. It would usually annoy me, but this time I welcomed the interruption. She checked her phone.

I asked hopefully, "Oh, do you need to answer that?" I was scared to hear her answer now.

"Nope, it's just finishing activation." She said cheerfully, "And, yes, I would love to attend the theatre with you and Gigi."

As soon as I heard her say 'yes', I was floating. It wasn't until she said 'and Gigi' that I realized my terrible mistake. I quickly clarified my question, hoping her answer wouldn't change. I looked around the room as I said, "Well, actually Gigi has an engagement, so it would just be you and…me." I looked at her as I ended my sentence.

As she realized that I was asking her out on a date, her body tensed, her eyes grew wide and her smile faded. She looked like a deer in headlights, not like someone who was going to accept. My stomach dropped as I braced myself for another vehement rejection. I wanted to crawl in a hole and die. Why the hell did I think this was a good idea? Her phone beeped again. I was literally saved by the bell.

"Sorry, new phone. And apparently Charlotte has called me seven times in the last hour."

Her phone rang. She answered it and spoke with Charlotte. I only caught a few words. Something about a video, Lydia, and George Wickham. At the mention of Wickham's name, anger washed over me, converting me from blubbering idiot into protective mode, something I'm actually good at. What had the bastard done now?

"I'm coming home right now." She hung up and stared at the phone. Something was very wrong.

I asked quietly, "Lizzie, are you all right?"

She looked at me, stunned. "No. No." She stood up. "I have to go…back to the apartment, to pack. I uh…where's my bag?"

The way her voice trembled pierced my heart. "What happened?"

She didn't reply as she rummaged through her bag with her hands shaking. She seemed to be in shock. I'd never seen her like this. I had to help her. She at least considered me a friend now, and I would protect her as someone I cared about. I might not be good at talking about feelings, but I fiercely protected my few true friends. I put my hand on her shoulder to get her attention and slid it to her shoulder blade in an attempt to provide some comfort. I pleaded, "Lizzie, let me help you. Stop."

She glanced at me and stammered, "You…you can't. No one can."

She had no idea what I was really capable of when protecting my loved ones. "Yes, I can. Now if you need to get home, I will book you a flight out. We can have your things packed and sent to you. But please tell me what's going on. On the phone, you mentioned George Wickham?" I hated even saying the vermin's name.

"Apparently Lydia has been dating him. And if hadn't been so wrapped up in my own life, I might have had a clue about it and I could warned her about him."

I interrupted her guilt spiral, "What did he do?"

"Apparently, he set up a website asking for subscriptions to a sex tape with YouTube star, Lydia Bennet. There's a countdown clock…" Her voice broke as she looked at a website on her phone. "Oh my God. I could have prevented this."

I wanted to kill Wickham for causing her pain. "Lizzie, this is not your fault."

"Then, whose fault is it? I could have told Lydia exactly what kind of person George Wickham was but instead I've just been petty. I haven't even spoken to her since Christmas. I don't know what good I can do but I just…I have to be there…I have to try to talk to Lydia. I just have to go home." She was almost in tears.

I wanted to tell her the truth. It was entirely my fault that the whole world didn't know what a scumbag Wickham was, but she wasn't in a state of mind to listen to me right now. Instead, I jumped at the chance to swing into action. "We'll get you on the next flight out."

She started to protest, but I interrupted her, "I insist." I got up and walked to the door, ending the argument. The cost of a last minute ticket should be my responsibility. I should have destroyed Wickham a long time ago. The lives he damaged were on my conscious.

Her voice called, "Darcy."

As much as I loved the sound of her saying my name, I hated the reason that she was calling it now. I stopped and turned back toward her.

"Thank you."

I desperately yearned to gather her into my arms, hold her tight, and reassure her that everything would be all right. But after her awkward reaction to the prospect of a date with me, I was certain that she would never welcome my embrace. It would take me some time to come to terms with that reality. I was fiercely determined to be a good friend to her even if every time I looked at her from this moment on, I died a little inside.

I nodded. "There will be a car downstairs for you in five minutes."


	9. The Domino Videos & Search for Wickham

_The Search for Wickham & the Domino Videos from Darcy's POV—Since we still don't have the details, I came up with a possible AU solution to ensure that Wickham won't ever do this again. Definitely includes some of my own wish fulfillment on that front. I also explored how Darcy struggles to fill the role of parent for Gigi and misses Lizzie. I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading and for your reviews!_

It had been a long fruitless day of searching for traces of someone I had been foolish enough to think would stay out of my life, George Wickham, the ultimate false friend. Fitz was helping me try to track Wickham down and I was very grateful for his true friendship right now.

As a boy, George Wickham always had a ready and pleasing answer any time an adult asked him a question. Combined with his easy smile and cheerful voice, he successfully misled many people about his character. I was often compared to him and urged to be more cheerful and to talk more. It upset me because I contemplated my thoughts before replying and I meant what I said. When I made a promise, I fulfilled it. Too often promises that George made would be immediately forgotten. He had a plausible excuse or a sympathy-inducing apology at the tip of his tongue whenever he needed it. When I tried to remind him of his promises, he would dismiss my concerns and tell me to enjoy life. After one of the countless times he disappointed my mother, we had a huge argument. He refused to repent or even admit his guilt. After that, I just left him to his own devices and avoided him as much as possible. It seemed George would never grow out of his reckless childhood ways.

I shuddered to think of how he had spent four years' worth of college money in one year. I understand that there was some gambling involved. I refused to give him any additional money in the belief that if I did, he would return every year with his hand out. I dared to hope that he might grow up and get serious about life. I had been terribly mistaken.

I never dreamed that he would hurt my sister in revenge. Gigi was just an innocent pawn in Wickham's game. He had known all along that I would eventually discover his relationship with her. He was aware that I knew him too well to believe his false affections for my sister. In retrospect, I had acted impulsively trying to prove Wickham's falseness by paying him off in front of Gigi. I had incorrectly assumed that once she realized he didn't truly love her, that she would rationally sever all ties and preserve her own feelings. The harsh reality was that when I made that decision, I had never been in love before. I didn't understand how little control the rational mind can have over one's heart when it is in love or how much a broken heart can truly hurt. If I'd had any idea what pain she would endure when he glibly dismissed her, I would have tried to soften the blow. In the aftermath of the damage Wickham had caused, Gigi had needed her mother more than ever before. Although I had tried my best to comfort her, I felt inadequate in my ability to provide emotional support as a substitute parent.

I had been foolish to think that Wickham could have no additional designs against my family or me. When he crossed my path this summer, I had tried to avoid him. I'm not certain if he somehow detected my feelings toward Lizzie or if it was a coincidence that he set his sights on her. When it comes to George, I find it difficult to believe in coincidence. Apparently, Lizzie was not an easy target for George and she had not become very attached to him. I smiled. By not falling in love with George either, Lizzie had unknowingly leveled the playing field.

I wished I had been aware that George had turned his attentions to Lydia. Perhaps I should have foreseen that possibility when Lizzie revealed some of the truth about Wickham from my letter in her video. I hadn't realized how low George would stoop in order to exact revenge on those who he wasn't able to convince with his charming spell. Releasing a sex tape publicly without the consent of the other party was one of the lowest things I could imagine. There must be a special place in hell for someone capable of that.

Now that it was late and I was alone with my innermost thoughts, they inevitably turned back to Lizzie. As much as I wished I could be with her now to console her even as a friend, I feared my presence would not be welcomed. In any case, I knew that the best way to help her and her family was to stop the release of the tape.

I wondered if I would ever see her again. She had been nearing the end of her scheduled shadowing period at Pemberley anyway. It was unlikely that she would return now. She had recently acknowledged that we were friends, which was a tremendous improvement from the level of hatred she repeatedly professed for me on her earlier videos. I should be satisfied that the changes I'd made to my behavior had yielded such dramatic results. My rational mind tried to be content with just being her friend. It wasn't working. I couldn't stop my heart from feeling like a dark empty pit of despair that threatened to consume me entirely. Although Lizzie's body language had made me feel certain that she was about to reject me yet again after I clarified that I was asking her to accompany me to the theater alone, my heart tortured me with thoughts about what her answer might have been. My attempts at sleep having proved unsuccessful, I yielded to my heart's incessant desire to see her again and replayed the videos from her visit to Pemberley. I paused the final video in the instant when she realized that I was asking her on a date but before her phone distracted her. I tried to perceive any additional clues about what her answer might have been. I was unsuccessful at anything but fueling the constant argument between my heart and my rational mind.

I tried to sleep again, but the pain in my chest would not subside. In fact, it spread to the point that my whole body ached. The only thing that reduced the pain was watching Lizzie. I re-watched the video where I made her laugh on repeat, memorizing every gesture and drinking in every smile. I wished I could go back and live in that moment forever, but I could already feel it slipping away and fading into memory.

In the morning, I got a text message from Gigi saying, "What we were going to do about the incident."

I replied, "Nothing."

She called me immediately on the new Domino application that we were testing.

I answered, "Gigi?"

"William, what are you doing?"

"Nothing that concerns you." She needed to stay as far away from Wickham as possible.

"It is absolutely my concern."

She was supposed to be recording the demonstration for Domino this morning. She couldn't possibly be calling me during the public demonstration, could she? "Are you calling me on the demo?"

"Yes, but don't change the subject."

Had she lost her mind calling me about a private matter on a publicly distributed video? I snapped, "This conversation is over."

"William, don't hang up on me." The desperate tone in my sister's voice stopped me. "Just…at least tell me that you are helping them."

I reluctantly admitted, "I am…trying." I hadn't had any success to speak of, but I'd been trying ever since Lizzie left Pemberley.

"Then I am helping too."

"Gigi, I forbid you to be involved in this. You're too vulnerable."

"I'll be fine."

"You weren't last time." Images of her curled up in an unresponsive ball on the couch for weeks flashed in my mind. I couldn't bear to see her suffer like that again even for one second. She wasn't listening to my warnings. I needed to drive home this point before she tried to go around me and did something foolish. I hated to bring up memories of that painful time, but I felt I had to. "Do you remember what that was like for you? I cannot see you hurt again, this could reopen every wound you've healed since."

"I'm stronger now."

"Are you?"

"It doesn't matter, William. Just think about that family. We cannot let this man hurt anyone again. I need to help you."

Of course it mattered. I agreed that we couldn't let Wickham hurt anyone else, but there was no way I would let Gigi get hurt in the process. "I'm not discussing this anymore. Not here, not now." I hung up, feeling like the worst pseudo-parent in existence.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As I walked to my car to chase down a new lead, I contemplated the potential impact that my evenings spent re-watching Lizzie's Pemberley videos over and over might have on her number of views when Gigi called on the Domino app again. This time, I was ready for her. I wasn't going to give her any details on a public video.

"Gigi?"

"Hey, where are you?"

I answered quite literally. "I'm headed to my car."

"Are you still in L.A.?"

"Yes, but I'm heading south."

"Orange County?"

How did she know that? I admitted, "Yes."

"So you know where he is?"

I was frustrated with how little information I had been able to obtain. "No. I just know he's somewhere in Orange County. I'll talk to you later."

Before I could hang up, she blurted, "Go to Newport Beach."

Her suggestion surprised me. "What?"

"We um, we used to go there for… just start there."

I didn't want her to have to relive any of that time. "Gigi you shouldn't be a part of this."

"No, William, I was in love with the man. I know how to find him."

Why wouldn't she listen to me? "Gigi, please…"

"Newport Beach, Oceanfront Resort. Just start there, ok?"

In the most reassuring tone I could manage I said, "I will find him."

"I'll talk to you later."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wickham wasn't at the Oceanfront Resort. He was too cunning to stay somewhere he had been before with another victim. Fitz's contacts came up with a phone number that was supposed to be Wickham's. We tried tracking the GPS without success. Before we could decide on the best way to draw Wickham out, Fitz sheepishly admitted that he'd given the number to Gigi. After I let loose a string of expletives, Fitz assured me that she'd promised to only text George and not to call him. I fervently hoped that she would stay true to her word, but I knew my sister a little too well to believe it. I knew she just wanted to help, but I didn't know how to protect her from any additional pain Wickham might cause her.

When I got a notification of a new Domino test user named George Wickham, I knew Gigi had talked to him. I immediately called her in a panic.

"Gigi, what did you do?"

"I'm sorry William. I called him. I know I wasn't supposed to, but I had to try. Please, please don't be made at me."

Didn't she understand that this was about me protecting her, not controlling her? I tried to better explain that I was concerned, not angry. "I'm not mad. I only need to know if you are all right."

"I…I don't know. I'm sorry. I know you warned me, but I had to try. I thought it would help."

I reassured her, "It did."

"What?"

Gigi had helped by enabling us to track down the most important piece of the puzzle, his location. "He downloaded Domino."

"Yeah, he activated it and I saw his face." Realization of the significance dawned on her as she began to speak more quickly. "And he downloaded the app. He accepted the terms of service. You can see his info. You can use that right?"

I wasn't going to implicate myself of any potential privacy infringement on a public video, but the Domino app had location services that would enable me to find his cell phone. "Get some rest, Gigi, I'll see you in a couple of days."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I wrestled with the problem of how to shut Wickham down permanently. Murder sounded tempting at times, however, I didn't want him on my conscience for the rest of my life even if I got away with it. Wickham's main motivation was money, but he went through it like water. Paying him off again would only serve to reinforce his actions and encourage him to try again when he needed more money. I placed a call to the private detective I'd hired to help me search for Wickham. I'd utilized his services in the past and knew that he would do whatever to took to find his man. After I gave him the information to be able to find the location of Wickham's cell phone, he mentioned that he'd run across someone else who was also on Wickham's trail, a Russian mobster, whose daughter had taken 'swim lessons' from him. I wasn't sure what to make of that.

We arrived at the address after nightfall. Joe, my private detective, picked the lock on the back door. We slipped in and caught Wickham looking in the open refrigerator. He looked up in surprise. "Darcy! What are you doing here?"

"As if you don't know, Wickham." I spat out his name like poison.

He grinned. "I figured a sex tape would get your attention. I sold it for pretty good money. Not as much as I would have gotten for Lizzie though. Maybe next time."

My fist smashed into his face in pure reflex. His head hit the freezer door and he sunk down against the shelves, stunned. A thin trickle of blood ran from his nose.

As I contemplated my next move, the back door flew open and several nefarious-looking men suddenly surrounded us. A man with a black beard asked me in a thick Russian accent, "Who are you? Are you with Wickham?"

"Darcy. William Darcy that is. Joe and I are most certainly not with Wickham. Who are you?"

"Call me Sergei. You should not be here." This must be the mobster than Joe mentioned earlier. I got nervous about his intentions and his view on witnesses.

I tried to explain myself. "Wickham hurt my sister and my friend's sister. He sold a sex tape he made with my friend's sister and I'm trying to stop him before it gets released."

He growled. "Sex tape? Scumbag." Sergei grunted. "He hurt my daughter too. I pay for swim lessons and he breaks her heart. Leaves her a note about peaches. No one makes my Irina cry. And there better not be any sex tape of her." He nodded at his men. "Bring him out here." He pointed to the dining room.

Two of the men dragged a dazed Wickham to the dining room and shoved him in a chair.

Sergei calmly sat down at the head of the table. "George Wickham. You gave my daughter Irina swimming lessons?"

Wickham's eyes were huge as he stammered, "Irina? Yes, she was a fast learner, very good swimmer with lots of potential."

Sergei nodded at one of his men, who swooped in and applied pressure to some of the more sensitive areas of his body. Wickham screamed.

Sergei continued, "Irina cries herself to sleep every night since she returned home. You will pay for that." He nodded his head toward another man. "You also did the same thing to Dmitri's daughter, Eva." He pointed toward me. "This man says you hurt his sister and his friend's sister. And you made sex tapes with these girls?"

Wickham pleaded with me. "Darcy! You've got to help me! The sex tape is all a big misunderstanding. Please!"

I shook my head. "That's not what you said earlier. In fact, you threatened to make another one with another friend of mine."

"You are scum." Sergei nodded. "Dmitri."

Dmitri brought over a butcher knife from the kitchen. The men held Wickham's right hand down on the table. I backed away reflexively.

Sergei said, "You don't need all your fingers to swim do you?"

Wickham started to beg. "No, please, I'm sorry, please don't do this! I'll never make another sex tape again!" One of the men stuffed a dishtowel in Wickham's mouth.

Dmitri raised the blade and swung it with precision, chopping off the end of Wickham's pinky finger. The dishrag muffled Wickham's scream. Tears streamed down Wickham's face as he started to shake.

Sergei leaned in, looking right in Wickham's eyes. "You will destroy all sex tapes. You will not do this again. I will be watching you everywhere you go. I will know. Next time, it will not be your finger." Dmitri pointed the knife at Wickham's groin to make his point. A wet urine stain spread quickly, darkening Wickham's denim. Wickham had pissed his pants in fear and I didn't feel sorry for him.

Dmitri took the end of Wickham's finger and ran it through the garbage disposal to ensure that there was no hope of reattaching it.

Sergei nodded at me. "I think we understand each other. Time for you to go."

I heard a few more muffled screams as I quickly exited the house and headed for my car with Joe right behind me.

When I was safely back in my hotel room, I burst out in twisted laughter at the strange turn of events. Wickham had really screwed up this time. Ultimately, the tip of a pinky finger wasn't a huge price to pay, but I hoped he took the warning seriously. I couldn't have threatened him with anything quite as sinister as being watched by a network of criminals. I turned on Lizzie's Pemberley videos again and toasted her smiling face with a glass of scotch.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was simple enough to contact Novelty Exposures. Their management gave me a song and dance about how Lydia's video was already in production and they couldn't stop it. Therefore, I turned loose my team of flesh-eating lawyers to buy control from the company's majority shareholder and oust the management. Once I had control, I took down the website and focused the company on infomercials instead of sex tapes.

I called my sister to update her. "Hello, Gigi."

"William, is everything ok?"

"Everything is…taken care of. He'll never be able to do this again." I actually believed that now.

"You're not going to tell me what you did, are you?"

I wasn't going to mention the mob part, obviously. "No. I'm sorry but…"

"I know William. You're protecting me."

I was sorry for how heavy handed my initial reaction to her demands to help had been. I wanted to explain why I had acted that way. "I am. And I know I may be a bit overbearing," I looked down uncomfortably. "But with our parents…"

She interrupted me. "It's fine. Thank you. Thank you for being the best big brother a girl could ask for."

Her words rendered me speechless. She'd always fought my attempts to protect and guide her, so her praise caught me by complete surprise. Gigi was well on her way to becoming a strong woman, despite my enduring instinct to protect her. A small smile fluttered across my face, contorting it for a moment.

She changed the subject. "So… did you tell her?"

At the reference to Lizzie, just the brief thought of her sent a fresh wave of pain through me. I tried to play dumb. "Did I tell who what?"

Gigi didn't let me off the hook. "Oh, you know who. About what you did."

"No, and I have no plans to."

She continued teasingly, "Ok, but think about how much she'll appreciate..."

I interrupted her, "Our last encounter did not end on a particularly pleasant note."

"That wasn't your fault."

I snapped, "Indirectly it was. Much of her troubles are, you've seen her videos." In my darker moods, I sometimes felt that Lizzie would have been better off if she'd never met me.

She was clearly disappointed. "So, you're going to do nothing."

I admitted, "I will continue to try and make amends."

"How?"

I didn't reply, but my plan was to talk to Bing and to fall on my sword. Bing deserved to know the truth of my misjudged involvement and to hear my repentance for assuming that I knew more about his relationship with Jane than he did.

Gigi continued, "You're not going to tell me are you?"

"No, and I'd prefer it if you and Fitz would honor my wishes on this matter."

"We understand." It sounded like a temporary truce.

"I will see you soon, Gigi. I'm proud of you." I truly meant it. When I'd watched the video of her talking to George, I was genuinely frightened for her, but I was surprised to see how well she had handled herself and how she had stood up to him despite her obvious distress. Perhaps I needed to give her more credit.

"Go for a swim, William, it will be refreshing." I was so glad to hear that her spirits were good enough to make a joke about Wickham.

I headed home glad to be done with this detestable Wickham business, but dreading how terribly empty Pemberley would feel without Lizzie.


	10. Episode 96 and 97-Lizzie's Voicemail

_(Sorry I haven't updated this story in a while, I've been grieving over the fact that the LBD is over! Writing this update helped me feel like it wasn't gone yet and I hope you enjoy! __ Thanks for reading and for your reviews!__) _

_Episodes 96 and 97 From Darcy's Point of View—After the Domino Videos, Darcy receives a voicemail from Lizzie and decides to pay her a visit._

I paced my conference room trying to make sense of Lizzie's latest videos. In the most recent one, Lizzie flatly denied what Caroline had perceived as Lizzie's attempts to seduce me. In the prior video, Charlotte directly asked Lizzie if her feelings about me had changed, but she avoided the question. However, Lizzie also expressed some nice things about me and what seemed like heart-felt gratitude towards my actions to help her sister. Then, she said that we weren't even friends. It all left me more confused than ever.

What exactly had Lizzie meant about me being in charge of my life and her being in charge of hers? I still wanted a relationship with her, now more than ever. However, I still didn't perceive any real indication that she would be receptive to a relationship with me. There were so many mixed signals in her videos that I felt lost at sea, buoyed by surges of hope and dragged down by flat denials and avoidance.

I still felt strongly that Lizzie was about to turn me down when I'd asked her on a date to the theatre moments before her phone rang and everything changed. I had tried to be satisfied with mere friendship, but now even that was in question. Uncertainty nagged me, leaving me with a burning desire for clarity.

I tried to keep Lizzie from becoming aware of my involvement in preventing the release of Wickham's sex tape featuring Lydia. I suppose I should have known she would find out despite my efforts. I didn't purchase that company to curry Lizzie's favor. I did it because I felt responsible for not permanently stopping Wickham earlier and to help Lizzie's family because of how important she was to me. Even if our relationship never progressed beyond its current state, I would always care about her deeply, beyond any fit of passion. Whether I liked it or not, Lizzie was a part of me now, ingrained permanently in my heart.

I hated being apart from her, hated how empty Pemberley felt without her. The sense of loss ate away at me, consuming me from within. During the few weeks that Lizzie shadowed Pemberley, even on the days I didn't actually see her, her mere presence in the building had soothed me. Now, I was restless and agitated, as though a part of me was missing. I often found myself pacing the hallway outside the office she had utilized, drawn to some faded echo of her presence, some hint she had been there.

Once again, my legs carried me down to that hallway. I stood for a moment in the exact spot where she had asked me to help her with her video, picturing her uncertain smile and hopeful eyes looking up at me.

The image of Lizzie dissolved as Ms. Reynolds came around the corner, eyeing me suspiciously. "Is everything all right, Mr. Darcy?"

I cleared my throat and tucked my chin. "Yes, of course."

She raised an eyebrow, not quite convinced. "I just wanted to remind you that you have a conference call in five minutes. Also, your itinerary for Chicago is on your desk."

"Right, certainly. I'll be there directly. Thank you." I hurried off, avoiding eye contact that would betray my embarrassment. I looked forward to my business trip to Chicago. There were no memories of Lizzie's presence there to haunt me.

A few days later, in the middle of a tense meeting in Chicago, an obnoxious pop song blared, bringing the meeting to an awkward halt. As everyone in the room looked around seeking the source of the offensive noise, it took me several seconds to realize the sound was coming from my phone. Utterly mortified, I lunged for the phone, nearly fumbled it across the conference table, and eventually silenced it. The screen indicated that the call was from Lizzie Bennet. As I stared at the screen in disbelief, my cheeks burned. Gigi must have programmed Lizzie's number with a special ringtone. That was the last time I'd let her borrow my phone. I switched the phone to vibrate and stuffed it deep into the side pocked of my briefcase.

I said, "My apologies. Please continue."

After some snickering, the meeting calmed down and proceeded. I heard a faint buzz from my briefcase indicating a new voicemail. I endeavored to pay attention during the remainder of the meeting, but my mind was obsessed with Lizzie's message. Why had she called? I imagined all kinds of banal reasons for her call. It was probably nothing. But what if it meant something I dare not even shape into a thought for fear it would slip away before it materialized. I forced myself to sit still through the rest of the meeting although my hand twitched, itching to reach for the phone of its own accord. I wanted nothing more than to excuse myself and listen to her voicemail, but I controlled myself. The instant the meeting adjourned, I flew out of the conference room and pressed play on the voicemail.

Lizzie's voice was balm to my burning heart. "Hey, Darcy. It's Lizzie. Um, when you have a sec, give me a call. I'd like to chat."

Energized, I rushed back to my hotel room. I wasn't prepared for the profound effect the sound of her voice had on me. Yes, I'd been watching her videos, but those were for the whole world to see. This was her voice meant only for me. I treasured it. I replayed the message several times, trying to understand the meaning of the pauses and the inflections in her voice. I'm terrible at trying to read between the lines, especially when it comes to Lizzie. My finger hovered over her number. I was already running late for my dinner meeting. Rushing this conversation would certainly have disastrous results. I put the phone down with a sigh and changed for dinner.

When I returned to my hotel room that night, it was too late to return her call. I had two more days packed with meetings before I would have a sufficient block of time to concentrate on such an important phone call. That wasn't the only problem. It was imperative that I see Lizzie's face in order to completely understand her meaning. A simple phone call could not hope to carry the weight and complexity of the conversation I needed to have with Lizzie at this critical point. A video call wouldn't be clear enough even if I could convince her. An old fashioned idea struck me. I would go to her and speak to her in person on my way home from this trip. Yes, that was the best plan of action.

During the next two days of meetings, my mind became increasingly occupied with the purpose of Lizzie's communication. The range of possibilities tortured me. By the time I arrived at O'Hare Airport for my flight to Lizzie's hometown, my anxiety was at an all time high. I was so nervous and jumpy that I triggered a higher level of TSA security screening at the airport. They didn't fold my clothes properly after they were finished rummaging through everything so I had to stop and re-pack my suitcase. It delayed me to the point that the airline paged me to the gate in a final boarding call announcement. This had never happened to me before. I was always early. Panicked, I ran to the gate. Breathing heavily, I sat down in my first class seat, happy to be at the front of the plane this time. For once, I accepted a pre-flight drink from the flight attendant, gulping it down before we pushed back from the gate. I tried to rest my eyes during the flight, but all I could think about was all the ways this conversation with Lizzie could go horribly wrong.

I pulled my rental car up in front of Lizzie's house. I sat there for several minutes, rehearsing what I was going to say, desperately trying to imagine her possible responses. My heart raced and my hands trembled. Maybe this was a mistake. No, despite what might happen, I couldn't turn back now. Emboldened by my desperate need to see her again, to know for certain what was in her heart, I took a deep breath and got out of the car.

I walked up to Lizzie's front door and rang the doorbell. I wiped my clammy palms on my pants as I waited.

To my surprise, Charlotte answered the door.

Startled, she said, "Darcy!" A wry smile spread across her face as she crossed her arms. "It's about time."

"Uh… Hello Charlotte."

She pointed to a doorway down the hall. "Lizzie's through there…" She muttered something that sounded like 'Tiger', but the reference was lost on me.

I walked in the direction she'd pointed. I turned the corner and stumbled when I saw Lizzie's profile. She was all dressed up in emerald green and even more beautiful than in my faded memories. I stood in the doorway and drank in the sight of her like a parched man who had been wandering in the desert for weeks discovering an oasis.

She bent down as she asked, "Do you need money for the tip?"

It was time to announce myself. "Excuse me, Lizzie," I said, finally stepping into the room.

She whirled around and jumped up, a shocked look on her face.


	11. Episode 98--Darcy's Surprise Visit

_Episode 98 from Darcy's point of view. Picking up right after Darcy surprised Lizzie by showing up in her living room when she was expecting Charlotte to return with the Chinese food they'd ordered for their shared birthday. _

Lizzie's eyes were wide as she haltingly said, "I thought…you…were Chinese."

I was usually the one caught off balance in our conversations, so I sympathized. In a reassuring tone, I said, "I can understand the confusion."

She just stared at me, frozen in shock.

"Would you care to sit?" I asked, in an attempt to put her at ease.

Without a word, she stiffly turned and sat back down.

I studied her face as I sat down beside her. I couldn't tell if she considered my presence as a welcome surprise or a onerous intrusion. She sat motionless, staring straight ahead. I turned in the direction she was looking and realized that her camera was recording our interaction yet again. Her silence dragged on for moments that seemed like decades.

I tried to elicit a favorable response from her by asking in as teasing a manner as I could manage, "Do you film everything in your life?"

She looked up at the ceiling and shook her head in exasperation. "No!" She turned toward me in an apologetic manner. "I swear…you just have…impeccable timing."

I smiled, relieved that she wasn't openly angry about my surprise appearance. I should clarify that my comment wasn't intended to belittle her videos. Addressing the camera, I said, "Well, I can't begrudge your videos, certainly. They've been very…useful from my perspective." I narrowly avoided the temptation to use the word 'illuminating' again.

As I looked back toward Lizzie, she looked down with a confused expression, bringing the conversation to another abrupt halt. I racked my mind for something polite and innocuous to say. Since I had no idea what the weather had been like here, it considerably reduced my already limited repertoire of practiced small talk topics. Lizzie was oblivious to the effort it took me to keep this conversation going, but I wasn't going to surrender to the silence easily after traveling all this distance.

I finally blurted out, "I was surprised to see Charlotte."

"It's our birthday," Lizzie said.

Oh god. It felt like she punched me in the gut as mortification flooded me. How could I be so obtuse that I'd appeared uninvited on her doorstep on her birthday of all days? I'd crashed her celebration and interrupted her cherished time with her best friend. My timing was truly atrocious.

I stammered, "I'm sorry, I didn't know it was your birthday." I looked down at my empty hands in burning shame and embarrassment.

"No," she said, apologizing for me, "why would you?"

How could I not know the birthday of the woman who occupied my thoughts day and night? Unfortunately, her tone reinforced the distant nature of our acquaintance and provided me no encouragement for the true purpose of my visit.

"I uh…" Nothing I could say would be adequate. I simply said, "Happy Birthday."

"Thank you," she said quickly with an uncomfortable smile.

The heavy blanket of awkward silence settled over the conversation again. The shocking birthday revelation had sidetracked me, but I re-focused on my mission. The next few minutes had the potential to either utterly destroy me or propel me to new heights of joy. This conversation was like a Band-Aid that needed to be ripped off quickly and without further delay.

"You called me," I said, finally getting to the point of my visit.

"I left a message. Yes."

Based on her tone, she'd clearly thought I'd ignored her message. Adding that insult to my uninvited interruption today could only serve to reinforce her initial assessment of my arrogant rudeness.

In an attempt to explain my actions or rather the lack thereof, I said, "I was in Chicago, so that's why I didn't get back to you sooner."

"Oh god, I didn't intend…I thought you would just call me back." She laughed as though my actions were ridiculous overkill. "You didn't have to _come_ here."

"Yes, I did." I remained steadfast in my belief that my actions, although admittedly extreme, were completely justified. I kept my gaze steady on her bewildered eyes as I said, "I needed to see your face when I asked you why."

"Why?"

I clarified, "Why did you call me?"

She looked down but did not reply.

I spoke again before this could turn into another millennia of awkward silence.

"I know…um." I stopped myself as my stomach lurched. I needed to reference the delicate situation with Wickham and Lydia without seeming like even more of an oaf than I'd made myself tonight. I tried the indirect approach, hoping she would fill in the blanks.

"I've been watching your videos and I know that you've found out certain things about recent events."

"Recent events? You've bought up whole companies to save my sister! For what you've done, for my family, we cannot thank you enough."

Although her gratitude was clearly sincere, the emphasis she placed on the word 'we' was discouraging. I forged ahead, still determined to gain clarification once and for all, while bracing myself for the crippling pain likely to come as a result.

"Your family owes me no thanks. As much as I've learned to respect them, I did not do it for them. I did it for you."

Her eyes widened and her lips moved but no sound came out. She broke eye contact and said, "My gratitude is there and always will be."

Her ambiguous tone and expression nearly drove me mad with frustration.

I blurted out, "Lizzie, I have to admit to some confusion because you also said in your videos that we are not friends. And I realized…you were right."

She looked away with what appeared to be a sad expression.

I continued rapidly, "As much time as we spent together in San Francisco, we hadn't become friends and I thought perhaps you wanted to amend that…"

She interrupted, "I do."

I tried to mask my disappointment. "So you want to be friends?" I was about to find myself mired in the 'friend zone' that Fitz had warned me about.

"Yes," she said in the most enthusiastic tone she'd used yet.

A crushing weight settled on my chest. I was doomed. Doomed to being merely a friend to a woman I loved with all my heart. A heart that I'd thoroughly doubted was capable of such intense feeling before I met her. I was a fool for not making my intentions clearer at Pemberley, back when she'd seemed happy. It felt like a century ago.

I barely comprehended what she said next. "Well, I mean…I… God, no wonder you're confused."

Her amended words sparked a tiny surge of hope as they slowly registered in my mind. She looked truly perplexed and uncomfortable, but I was no longer certain of the reason for her discomfort.

It was time to reveal the truth that burned in my secret heart. No more playing it safe, testing the waters with talk of friendship. I still wanted much more than mere friendship with Lizzie. I'd traveled all the way here to determine if she might too. I just needed to pull the damn trigger. I forced out the words reluctantly clinging to my tongue before I lost my nerve.

"Lizzie, I still feel the same way I felt back in the fall."

She didn't respond or even look at me.

I continued, prepared for the poisonous sting of final rejection, "More strongly than I did even back then."

Lizzie's eyes widened in surprise as she blinked rapidly but continued to stare straight ahead in silence.

I was relieved that the truth was finally revealed. I'd completed my mission and now had only to bear the consequences. I looked away as I offered her an easy way out.

"So, if you just want to be friends or say thank you for recent events, then…"

Lizzie whipped around and leaned toward me. As I turned my head in surprise, her lips crashed into mine, silencing me in the most effective way possible. I was so shocked that I barely even participated in the kiss.

I had barely even dared to hope for some indication that she might be open to giving me a chance to become more than just a friend. In typical Lizzie fashion, she'd surprised me with a response I had not expected and could never have predicted. She literally took my breath away.

She slowly pulled her lips from mine and asked in a breathy voice, "Does that clarify some things for you?" Happiness glowed in her eyes where confusion and uncertainty had been only moments before.

The burning sensation in my lungs reminded me to breathe as I scrambled to shape my thoughts into comprehensible words. I nodded and managed to speak just one word. "Some."

My heart leapt with pure glowing joy and flattened the barriers of my usual reserve and restraint.

I teasingly added, "I could use some further illumination on certain points, however." I wrapped Lizzie in my arms, pulled her close, and kissed her passionately this time. Her lips were even softer than I'd imagined and tasted impossibly sweet, like strawberries from heaven.

When we reluctantly broke the kiss, she rested her forehead against mine, not ready to be apart from me yet. I didn't move, fearing I might break the spell. As she playfully caressed my tie, the sight of her fingertips gently touching the material made my skin irrationally jealous. The light pressure of her warm hands on my chest sent shock waves through me, making it exceedingly difficult to concentrate on what she said next.

In a soft voice, she said, "Just so you know, you're not the only one who was confused."

"Really?"

"We were getting along so well at Pemberley and then…after I left I didn't hear from you. I…I thought…"

The doubts that haunted me came flooding out. "I didn't know if you wanted to hear from me. I watched your videos and your focus was solely on your sister, as it should have been. And I realized I would have just been an unwelcome distraction."

"Not unwelcome, I promise."

My confession continued to spill from my lips undaunted, "Then I heard what you said to Caroline about my life being my choice and your life being yours and it got my hopes up again." My deepest darkest fear rushed to the surface, that she'd feel some kind of obligation to me stemming from my actions to help her sister. "Then I didn't know if it was just because of what you'd found out or…"

She interrupted, "I get it! Confusing." A genuine smile lit up her beautiful face, stunning me. "God, for two such smart people, we can sure act like idiots, can't we?"

Giddy with unexpected happiness, I said, "One might even say it's our forte."

"Well, let me make this as clear as possible. William Darcy, I don't want to be just friends."

I could scarce believe what she was saying despite the fact that she'd already kissed me. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, threatening to drown out her words. Could my dreams really come true after all this time, after all this anguish?

She continued, "And I don't want to be with you because I'm grateful. I want to be with you because of you. Got it?"

Time stood still as her words slowly trickled down deep into my soul where I treasured them as priceless gems. I memorized every tiny detail of this moment in order to cherish it forever. I reached out and traced my fingers over the delicate porcelain skin of her cheek and down through the soft red curls of her long hair, just as I'd imagined so many times before. The happiness radiating from her eyes as she smiled at me transformed her into the most beautiful creature I'd ever beheld.

I loved this woman so deeply that she'd literally become part of me as she'd shaped me by inspiring me to improve myself. As a wave of unprecedented and unbridled joy washed over me, every fiber of my existence, every corner of my soul became irrevocably hers and hers alone. There was nothing I would not do to ensure her happiness. I could hold nothing of myself back from her from this moment forward. Come what may, I was entirely at her mercy. If I was an incredibly lucky man, someday she might even love me in return.

"Clear as day, Lizzie Bennet," I said, leaning in for another kiss.

She pulled away after a few moments. "Oh… one sec." She sheepishly grinned as she leaned over and turned off the camera.

I never wanted this glorious moment to end. I gathered her into my arms and gazed at her in absolute wonder and amazement before kissing her again. Lizzie. My Lizzie.


	12. Dizzie Fluff--Napa Valley

_Some utter fluff born of my Dizzie withdrawal. After things have settled down, Lizzie agrees to spend a Saturday with Darcy on a real date. He surprises her with a wine tasting day in Napa Valley. From Darcy's point of view._

I may have made some changes to my behavior since I'd met Lizzie, but some things were firmly ingrained in me, such as planning. I had been thinking about this day for some time. Now that things had calmed down again, I'd asked Lizzie to spend the day with me. I'd scheduled a limo and driver for the day.

When Lizzie answered her door, her eyes had only lighted on me for a moment before she noticed the limousine on the street behind me.

Her eyebrows shot up. "A limo? Really, Darcy? Isn't that a bit excessive?"

"Actually, it's a practical measure in this case."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "You still won't tell me where we're going, will you?"

I shook my head. "It's a surprise."

I'd arranged private tours at a few wineries in Napa Valley, starting with my favorite one. I kept Lizzie guessing about our destination for as long as possible.

When the road signs began to make our destination obvious, she gasped. "We're going to Napa, aren't we? I've never been!"

I smiled, "Yes, I'm taking you to some of my favorite wineries."

She nodded, finally understanding. "You got the limo so you can drink too. Smart man."

I smiled as I let her compliment sink in. Gigi had assured me that Lizzie would enjoy wine tasting, but I was still nervous. What if she didn't like the wines at the wineries I'd chosen?

When we arrived at the first winery, a winery representative met us at the car. We walked out among the rows of vines as the rep described the soil characteristics and its effect on the grapes. When the tour was over, the rep instructed us to meet him back inside at our leisure. Lizzie's hair glowed like flaming copper in the rays of sunshine that escaped from between the clouds. She giggled and ran down a row of vines, her skirt flowing behind her. She looked back at me as she ran and beckoned me to follow her. I chased after her. She stopped at the top of the hill, looking around at the view of rolling hills covered with rows of green grapevines. She turned to me, her blue eyes sparkling in delight, "This looks like a painting." Her porcelain cheeks were flushed rosy pink from running.

As I looked at her rather than the scenery, I said, "Yes, the view is beautiful."

I had the urge to kiss her, but I was terrified of spoiling our day when it had just begun. Lizzie's eyes grew wide as we were locked in each other's gaze for a long moment.

Lizzie flinched as a large droplet of rain landed on her cheek, breaking the spell. More raindrops soon followed.

I said, "We'd better head back."

To my surprise, Lizzie took my hand and pulled me along with her as we dashed back to the winery building. We made it back before we got soaked.

As I held the door open for Lizzie, a party of six women approached. I did the polite thing and continued to hold the door for them. By the time I finally entered the building, Lizzie had gravitated toward the crowded tasting area.

The winery rep saw me and waved me over. I nodded and went to fetch Lizzie. I took advantage of our newly established closeness and took her hand when I approached, enveloping her small cold hand in mine.

I said, "You're cold."

She shrugged. "Oh, I'm fine."

I quickly took off my blazer and draped it over her bare shoulders. I was surprised at how much I liked the way she looked wearing my clothes.

"Thanks." Her smile melted me. "Such a gentleman."

I tried not to blush as I took her hand again. "This way, Lizzie."

She looked confused. "Oh, ok."

We met up with the winery rep again. He led us past the crowd in the main tasting room.

Lizzie looked around. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

We went down the stairs to the cellar below. At the bottom of the stairs, the winery rep said, "Welcome to the VIP tasting room." We rounded the corner to a round table covered in a white linen tablecloth and place settings for two.

Lizzie shook her head at me, but a giddy smile quickly erased her scolding look.

I held Lizzie's chair for her.

When we were both seated, Lizzie said, "This is too much, Darcy."

I shrugged. "This is my favorite winery. It's a perk of being a good customer."

They brought us some excellent aged white cheddar and delicate crackers to pair with our flight of wines to taste. The rep explained how everyone tastes different flavors in wine even though the flavors are solely derived from the effect of the soil and weather on the grapes.

Lizzie's eyes lit up when she tasted the last wine, the cabernet sauvignon. "Ooh, this one tastes like raspberries and dark chocolate."

"Like your favorite Ghirardelli."

She blushed. "You remembered."

"Of course." Our tour of San Francisco wasn't that long ago after all.

Lizzie liked the cabernet best, so we ordered full glasses after we were done tasting. The wine reps told us to take our time enjoying the wine and left us.

When we were alone, Lizzie looked around at the rows of barrels and whispered, "This is amazing."

"Thank you for accompanying me today." I raised my glass in a toast. "To new beginnings."

Lizzie raised her glass, "To new beginnings and second chances." After taking a drink, Lizzie grinned. "I didn't realize how good wine could be. I guess I usually drink the cheap stuff."

I didn't want to focus on prices. "I'm glad you like it."

Lizzie jumped up. "Let's explore this place!" She reached for my hand. My heart glowed as it started to feel natural to have her hand in mine. I followed her down a row of stacked barrels of wine.

She turned toward me, her eyes wide. "It goes on forever!"

I nodded. "It's one of the largest cellars in Napa Valley. The wine ages down here for…"

She put her index finger on my lips, stopping me mid-sentence.

I nodded. "Uh, sorry. That was boring."

She said, "Shut up and kiss me."

My brain nearly overloaded again as I tried to decide if I'd actually heard the words from her and not from the desires of my own subconscious mind. She looked at me expectantly. It seemed like she'd meant it. My heart raced and I couldn't breathe. My hands started to shake. I had to get a hold of myself. This was not the time to freeze up or malfunction. I'd thought about kissing her so many times. I just needed to push past my anxiety and do it. I closed my eyes for a brief moment and focused.

I slowly leaned down and took Lizzie's face in my hands, my fingers tangling in her hair the way I'd imagined so many times before, and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me close. She tasted like strawberries and felt like home.


End file.
